


Young Master And The Wanderer

by happylittlepill



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Death Threats, High School Student Harry, M/M, Mafia Fluff, Mentions of a Minor Character Death, Minor Injuries, Minor Violence, college freshman and private tutor Louis, mafia, side Ziam, tutor/tutee relationship, yes that's a thing in this fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-07-12 00:11:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 28,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7076443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happylittlepill/pseuds/happylittlepill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Piss poor college freshman Louis Tomlinson's life has been a chain of misfortunes, until he saves a strange man's life and agrees to be his son's private tutor. With an appealing salary and the sweetest boy in existence as his tutee, Louis thinks his life can only get better from here. </p><p>Or so he thinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! This is my very first attempt at fan fiction. This fic hasn't been betaed yet and English is not my first language so mistakes are inevitable. Also, I'm not really familiar with the UK education system so I just make up my own based on what I found on Google and my country's.  
> In where I live, college students are often hired to tutor high school students, hence the idea for this story. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it! Feedback would be wonderful :)

College freshman Louis Tomlinson’s life is a chain of misery.

 

But don’t be so quick to think of misery as something downright tragic. He isn’t diagnosed to any terminal illness, his parents are all alive and happy and he hasn’t fallen in love once in his life to suffer any painful heartbreak either.

 

Alright, to be more precise, college freshman Louis Tomlinson’s life is a chain of misfortunes.

 

The dorms were already full when Louis signed up for a room and apparently, the guy who got the last slot registered just five minutes before him. He is currently broke, completely broke. He has no money to pay for his courses in uni and his rent, which got him kicked out of his flat just yesterday. He is on his way to work, with a heavy heart (and a growling stomach), contemplating how he is going to convince his manager at the fast food restaurant to give him his paycheck in advance and let him crash there for a few nights while looking for a new flat despite his awful sense of punctuality that tests the patience of his manager on a daily basis.

 

Nevertheless, Louis’ mission of the day is to satisfy him and maybe, just maybe he would actually be generous for once.

_There’s just no way I’m late today. My shift is starting in seven minutes and I’m just ten metres away from the restaurant._

He thinks today could very well be one of his (rare) lucky days. Just a few minutes ago, he came across a group of aggressive-looking men in black and even bumped into one of them. Louis squeezed his eyes shut and held his breath when the guy grabbed him by the collar and raised his fist, but the gang seemed to be in a hurry so the apparent leader just exasperatedly waved his hand in dismissal: “No time”. Yeah, that day is definitely Louis’ lucky day.

Or so he thought.

 

A few steps away from the restaurant is a small and pretty dark alley. Everything would have been good in the world, had Louis not made the worst decision of taking a peek at the alley, in which is a tall and well-built man, apparently in his 40s, leaning against the wall, panting heavily, sweats dripping down his pale-as-a-ghost face but he seems…strangely calm.

When the man raises his head and spots Louis staring, he reaches out, grabbing his hand and pulls him into the alley.

“Mister…” – Louis is freaking out of his mind but still remembers to drop his voice to whispering when the man signals him to be quiet. “What are you doing?”

“Listen, kid.” – The man roughly grabs his shoulders, staring him down from head to toe. After a few seconds, he says. “Take off your clothes!”

“Pardon?”

“I said take off your clothes, NOW!”

…

…

…

…

…

“Take off your clothes!”

 

_Did he really just say that?_

Louis has to take a minute to process the man’s order. His heart is beating wildly in his chest. Of course, of course, hiding in an alley and forcing him to strip out of his clothes, this man must be…

 

_He must be running from someone and planning to switch clothes with me as some sort of disguise to get away. Who is he running from? Creditors?_

 

So instead of taking off his clothes, Louis drops his backpack, rummaging the mess inside and finally takes out what he was looking for – his restaurant uniform.

“You can take this.” – he eagerly gives the uniform to the man and points outside – “Then get in the restaurant right next to this alley and you should be fine.”

The man wastes no time and puts on the uniform. Louis is lean and much shorter than the man so the shirt stretches on the man’s muscular body, at one point Louis even thinks it’s going to rip. When he finishes changing, he narrows his eyes. “How did you know someone was chasing after me? And why are you helping me?”

“I’ve been there, getting chased by creditors, having to strip off my clothes to get away.” – Louis grins. “I can empathise.”

“Kid…” – He stares at Louis for what seemed like eternity. Finally, gripping his shoulders so tightly, the man said, barely above a whisper and for the first time, his eyes showed some desparation. “Can you help me some more? It’s a matter of life and death.”

 

With a smile still on his face, Louis looks straight into the man’s pleading eyes.

 

**_Aren’t you about to be late for work, Louis Tomlinson?_ **

_But this guy needs my help._

**_You will get your ass fired._ **

_But this seems like a life-threatening situation._

**_What about your college tuition?_ **

_Saving a life is much more important than failing a course!_

As a result of his internal friction, Louis’ answer is “Yes!”

 

The man’s eyes widen a bit before his lips quirk up, which, for a split second, makes him look more like a mafia boss who got ambushed than someone who is running from creditors. Louis shakes his head to clear that dramatic thought, listening attentively to what the man is about to say.

 

“Come with me to the restaurant. Remember to act normal, no glancing around. Just stay calm.”

“Ye…yes, sir.”

 

The man slings his arm around Louis’ shoulder, dragging him along, making Louis almost fall flat on his face from the weight of the muscles. The two of them make their way to the restaurant while pretending to have a few chats and laughs along the way like two life-long friends.

 

When Louis steps through the door, he is instantly greeted by his manager’s deep scowl. He shrieks, “Louis!! You’re 15 minutes late!!”

“Ben, you see, I…”

Louis stutters, while the man lets go and quietly sneaks out through the back door and…is that Louis’ phone in his hand?

“Who the hell was that?” – Ben continues to yell, his eyes narrowing after him.

“I…I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?? And where is your uniform?”

“He…that guy took it.”

Ben’s face went an ugly shade of purple at that, “Louis Tomlinson, you’re fired!!”

Well, Louis sort of had it coming the moment he gave the man his uniform. What he is more concerned about is whether the man manages to escape the creditors or whoever or not. Louis suddenly recalls the group of men in black on his way to work, maybe they are the ones chasing after him. Maybe that guy is a real gangster after all.

 

It’s just…

Louis is fired.

And he even loses his phone.

…

…

…

…

 

“Ben…”, Louis sighs, massaging his forehead and dropping his backpack on the table. “A cheeseburger, please.”

Seems like Ben is too angry to change his view of Louis from a newly sacked employee to a customer, though. Instead of serving him a cheeseburger, Ben smiles albeit too sweetly and kicks him out of the door.

 

…

_Oh, oh, oh_

_Be my baby_

_I’ll look after you ~~_

Louis is snapped out of his thoughts when he hears his phone ringing. He slips his hand in the pocket of his jeans when he remembers his phone is already taken. But if it were taken, how could he still hear its ringtone?

“It’s because I’m giving it back to you, kid.” – the man from earlier’s warm voice startles Louis. As if he could read the question in his mind, he smirks, Louis’ phone twirling in his massive hand. He no longer wears his restaurant uniform but a shiny grey vest.

“Mister!” – Louis grins so wide it hurts, “I knew you wouldn’t take my phone! But what are you still doing here? What about those people who were chasing after you?”

“Already taken care of.” – he laughs, patting Louis’ back, “all thanks to you. Your uniform, the restaurant and the phone. I wouldn’t have made it without your help. And just call me Paul.”

“I’m glad to be of help, Paul.” - Louis says earnestly, pocketing his phone.

“And you are?”

“I’m Louis Tomlinson.”

“Seems like I just got you fired, Louis?”

“Um…”

“I just went to the restaurant earlier, the manager told me you had been fired. I was even going to track your address when I caught you drifting off out here. It’s because of me, isn’t it?”

Louis smiles, waving his hand in reassurance. “Not really. I got on my manager’s nerves multiple times before for slacking. I got it coming.”

It doesn’t to reassure Paul though. He frowns in response. “You can just say it’s because of me, you know? I will never let anyone get hurt for my sake, especially honest and kind people like you. By the way, are you a college student?”

“Yes, I am a freshman at Brenton College.” – Louis nods enthusiastically. He is quite proud of himself for getting accepted to Brenton College, which has always been the college of his dream.

“Wow!” – Paul’s eyes widens. He stares at Louis like he is a wonder of the world, “No one in the entire Styles family has graduated from high school. Hey, Louis!”

“Yes?”

“I was going to compensate you decently but…I changed my mind.”

Louis’ smile freezes. “You…changed your mind?”

“Yup. Instead, will you tutor my son? I will pay you as much as you want. Just say the number. You can even stay at my house!” – Paul said, sounding way too eager and proud of himself for coming up with the idea.

 

Now it is Louis’ turn to stare at Paul like he is a wonder of the world.

 

“I don’t want to pressure you or anything.” – Carefully sitting down beside Louis on the stairs, Paul scratches his head, “My son is a nice kid, just not the brightest. Most of his tutors quit after two weeks or so. He hasn’t studied much for over a year. He’s only in Year 11 and his teachers have to contact me like every day to complain about his grades.”

“Um…”

“Just think about it, yeah? You can contact me anytime. Here’s my number. If you don’t want to tutor my son, I will still compensate you, no worries.”.

“Paul, I…”

“I have to leave now but…please think about it. See ya.”

 

“PAUL, WAIT!” – after taking a few minutes to gather his senses, Louis immediately rises to his feet to grab Paul’s sleeve, stopping him from leaving while holding himself back from screaming and dancing out of joy. Staring into Paul’s hopeful eyes, Louis takes a deep breath and says, “I’ll do it. I’ll definitely do it, on one condition that you pay me a month in advance so I could pay my college tuition…tomorrow?” – his voice trails off at the last part.

“Oh, absolutely!” – Paul laughs, slapping Louis’ back so excitedly that it starts to hurt.

Wincing and stepping back to avoid Paul’s massive paw potentially breaking his back, Louis asks, “What’s his name? Your son’s, I mean.”

“Harry, Harry Styles.”

“Harry.” – Louis repeats, smiling.

 

_Harry Styles. Such an adorably terrible pun of a name._

Louis genuinely thinks so, not because this Harry Styles just blesses him with a promising job. It’s a genuinely cute name with some rock star vibe to it, giving Louis a sense of joy and comfort.

_Harry, don’t you worry about a thing!_ – Louis confidently declares in this thoughts, _I will tutor you with all I’ve got! I will never give up on you!_

Louis smiles to himself and resists the urge to pump his fist up at the sky in the middle of the street, not knowing his life is about to change drastically.

 ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

 

Louis Tomlinson’s life changes the moment he steps on Paul Styles’ shiny Limousine, several men in black suit and black sunglasses bowing down to him. What has he even done? Well, actually quite a lot. He saved their boss’ life, after all. Paul smiles, pats his shoulder and introduces him as “young master’s tutor” and that’s it. The limousine slowly passes the street, as if to purposefully let Louis’ eyes catch the men in black, whom he thought were chasing after Paul earlier, currently lying broken on the sidewalk. Paul calmly explains that he was going for a walk and some fresh air, forgetting to bring his phone and unfortunately got ambushed. Owing to Louis’ help, his gang arrives just in time for a rescue mission, so now the entire gang is in his debt. Louis just smiles bashfully.

 

His smile freezes on his face for the hundredth time today when the limousine enters an enormous villa Paul describes as “a cozy little house for his son”. Louis can’t imagine the extent of the mafia-ness of this man, but he has gone too far to draw back so he just swallows thickly and follows Paul inside the house, finding a boy on the sofa, seemingly waiting for them. And when his eyes land on the boy, Louis doesn’t understand why his heart skips a beat.

 

That…that must be Harry. 

In a light blue button-down, his future tutee is sitting with his legs crossed on the sofa, frowning in impatience. His hair is made of a mess of chocolate brown curls, with a soft fringe swooped to the left. His plum lip stuck out in a pout and his vibrant green eyes stare into the void, seemingly deep in thoughts. His jawline is pretty sharp and well-defined but his cheeks are still a bit chubby, indicating his young age. He looks mature and innocent at the same time and insanely gorgeous. Louis’ heart is still thumping wildly in his chest. Standing behind Paul, he awkwardly pushes the frame of his glasses, suddenly finding his shoes fascinating.

 

Spotting Paul and Louis, the boy’s eyes light up. He rises to his feet before bowing his head. “Father.” - he greets, making Louis shiver a little at the deep voice. “James told me what happened. Are you okay?”

“Of course.” – Paul nods, placing a hand on Louis’ back and guides him forwards. “Harry, meet Louis, your new tutor. Louis, this is my son, Harry.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Louis.” – Harry bows his head again and smiles softly, his dimples popping out. He holds out his hand. “I’m Harry.”

“Hello, Harry.” – Louis shyly takes his hand in a handshake. Harry’s hand is big just like his dad’s, not to mention incredibly warm _._ He blushes, finding himself mesmerised by the green-eyed boy’s bright smile and radiant sweetness in front of him.

“You’re going to tutor me for real?”

“Yes, Louis is going to tutor you.” – Paul interrupts with a calm but firm voice. “Behave yourself and study hard. If your tutor gives up again, you might as well drop out.”

“I will try my very best, father.” – Harry nods his head seriously and turns to Louis. “We are starting right tonight, if that’s okay with you.”

“No.” – Paul shakes his head. “Today I’m just bringing Louis here to introduce you two. Give him a break. And oh, I forgot to mention, from tomorrow, Louis is going to move in with you just like all the previous tutors.”

Louis is startled when he hears “from tomorrow”. Where would he sleep tonight then? He clears his throat. “Paul, I can start tutoring Harry tonight. I just need to go grab my belongings at a friend’s flat.”

“No no, Louis. You stay here.” – Harry shakes his head, his green eyes twinkling. Louis thinks he’s going to die of a heart attack if the boy doesn’t stop smiling like a fucking flower garden in full blossom. “What’s your friend’s address? I will send my chauffeur to get them for you so you can start tutoring me right away.”

“Harry!! I told you to give him a break!” – Paul hisses through his teeth.

“Paul, it’s fine.” – Louis waves his hand wildly, frightened. “I don’t need a break. I didn’t do anything much today anyway.”

“Well, if you insist…” – Turning to Louis, his eyes eyes visibly softens. His lips quirk up into a gentle smile.

Louis shakily inhales. Paul has been so gentle and sweet with him, but when it comes to his own son, he’s strict and firm, leaving no room for argument. Ever since he steps in the villa, Louis hasn’t been able to recognise the friendly, funny man who kept laughing and slapping his back just half an hour ago. In front of him is a strict, cold and distant father to his son. Louis finds himself curious to know about Harry’s mother and childhood. Growing up with a father like Paul must have been lonely at times.

Harry is such a nice kid too, so polite and kind, that and he’s breathtakingly beautiful with big doe eyes and a dimpled smile, like an absolute angel. Louis has never felt so lucky in his life. How could he ever give up on him?

Even if this house were the headquarter of some mafia, Louis wouldn’t give a damn. All that matters in the world right now is Harry and his blinding smile.


	2. Chapter 2

Louis doesn’t know whether this is a mafia headquarter or not. The only thing he knows is that this villa is a stage and the Styleses are a pair of brilliant actors and at the same time, directors and the screenwriters, putting on a show for the only spectator that is Louis.

Seeing Paul off to the door, Louis witnesses the first act come to an end.

When he’s sure Harry can’t see them, Paul sighs, “Lou, you see…”

“Yes?” – Louis blinks at the nickname.

“I’ve never seen Harry so willing to study. He must be happy to have you as his tutor. I can’t thank you enough.”

“No, Paul. Harry is wonderful. I have to thank _you_.”

Paul smiles, ruffling Louis’ hair, “Please be patient with him, Lou. Look after him for me.”

“I promise.”

“And don’t tell him that I asked you to!”

Louis bites back a grin, “Okay.”

“Don’t tell him I complimented him to you either!”

“Okay.” – Louis nods, can’t help but chuckle at Paul’s futile attempt at sternness.

“I will come back tomorrow. Take care.”

“Yes, sir.”

Louis keeps nodding his head vigorously, still grinning happily. He waves goodbye to the father who likes to pretend he is cold and distant but is actually a big softie and returns inside the villa, where sweet, angelic Harry is waiting for him.

~ ~  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Harry is still seated on the sofa, but now with his legs smugly on the glass table, not even bothering to take off his boots, his shirt now unbottoned all the way down to his chest, exposing the gigantic bird tattoo on his chest. A cigarette is tugged between his lips. Louis’ jaw drops to the floor at the sight. Harry just smirks, shaking his head and exhales a long smoke while his eyes bore into Louis, long gone the adorable innocence and kindness.

“Hey you.”

“Huh?” – Louis jumps at the ridiculously low voice and the change in his tone.

“Sit down. I need to tell you something.” – Harry tilts his head, wiggling his index finger and points at the sofa.

Louis gulps and does as he’s told. The image of Harry is suddenly blurred by all the smoke. Everything’s spinning in his head. No more sweet Louis this, Louis that but just a curt “Hey you”.

Snubbing out the cigarette in the ashtray, Harry asks. “You’re not someone ‘in our circle’, are you?”

“…”

“If you were, father wouldn’t have acted so formally.”

“…” – Louis is still blinking at the boy, yet to find his voice.

“I heard you saved his life? Thanks, but Louis…”

“…”

“Because you’re not someone ‘in our circle’, I will get this straight for you. I – fucking – hate – tutoring.” – He grunts out each word for good measure and leans against the sofa, making a show of examining his nails. “So it will be best for both of us if you just stay here, playing around for like two weeks and then tell my father that you can’t do it and you want to quit. Simple!” 

Louis is still silent. Harry grabs the tea cup on the table and takes a sip, still not looking at him. “About the money, I will pay you twice as much as my father does. Don’t worry.”

Louis still stares at him with his mouth agape. Harry frowns when Louis has taken too long to answer. “You still don’t get it?”

“I do. It’s just…” – Louis blinks, struggling to sort out whatever is happening. He bites his bottom lip and asks hesitantly. “If you hate tutoring that much, why don’t you just tell your father so?”

“Tell him?” – Harry’s eyes widen comically and he throws his head back in laughter. “are you fucking insane? He would kick my ass if I did. Just hurry the fuck up and make up your mind, I don’t have the bloody time.”

Now Louis understands why the previous tutors gave up, yet Paul still believes his son is a nice, innocent kid, just as he believes Paul is a cold-hearted father. Staring at the little demon in disguise before him, Louis shuts his eyes for a moment and inhales deeply, knowing Harry wouldn’t like his answer.

“Absolutely not.”

It’s definitely not an answer Harry was expecting. His eyes widen slightly before narrowing, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “So you want more money then? Just spit it out. How much?”

“Of course money is important.” – Louis bravely looks straight into those maniac green eyes that half an hour ago were looking at him oh so sweetly. He sure got him fooled. “But your father pays me enough. What matters is that he entrusts me with you. I will not let him down.”

“Ah.” – Harry nods, rubbing his imaginary beard. “It’s not like I haven’t met someone stubborn like you. But they were ‘in our circle’, usually indebted to my father. And even they couldn’t stand me.” – he looks up at Louis again, his eyes darkening. “Who do you think you are?”

“I’m Louis Tomlinson.” – Louis smiles, slowly gaining his confidence. “I promised your father that I would tutor you. I never break my promises. If you insist on discouraging me, I have no choice but to tell him.”

That seems to have angered Harry. He pushes himself up and strides to Louis’ side, his face just an inch from Louis’. “Don’t you fucking dare.” – he grabs his shoulders roughly and hisses, his breath hot on Louis’ face, making the skin on his neck crawl. Louis gulps, trying to ignore Harry’s knee between his legs and the warmth radiating from his body towering above him.

“I could, and I would.” – Louis grits, staring back in challenge.

After a few agonising seconds of a stare-off, Harry sighs and steps back, drops himself on the sofa, pinching the bridge of his nose and snorts. “You’re no fun, threatening to rat me out to my father like that. Alright then, how about we make a bet?”

Louis raises an eyebrow. “A bet? Like what?”

“I will let you tutor me for some time.” – Harry’s lips twitch, sensing that Louis’ already rising to his bait. He can’t let Louis tell his father the truth. “If you can handle me through that amount of time, I will concede defeat and study properly. If you can’t, you will get the fuck out of here without breathing a word to my father and not receive a single pound, understood?” – He grunts at the last word threateningly.

“You’re on.” – Louis nods, not hesitating for a second. He’s certain he’s not going to lose to this doe-eyed demon. “For how long?”

“Someone like you…” – Harry eyes him from head to toe, smirking. “…a week at most. If you decide to draw back now, I might change my mind and still pay you a decent amount.”

“Definitely not.” – Louis shakes his head, determined. “a week it is.”

“Brilliant!” – Harry claps his hands and stands up. “That’s decided then. I’m having a test tomorrow so we must study tonight. But first, I’ve got some errands to run. We will start the tutoring once I come back, okay?”

Louis huffs. “Fine.” 

“Aww, my new tutor is so cute.” – Harry winks and licks his lips, making blood rush to Louis’ face. The taller boy laughs and pokes his cheek. “Real cute.”

Louis weakly slaps his hand away, making him laugh even harder. Still shaking his head in amusement, Harry throws on a black leather jacket and heads to the door. “I almost forgot. James will bring your belongings here later and guide you to the study room. Just wait for me there.” – Harry says and blows a kiss before disappearing through the door. A minute later, Louis hears the sound of a motor engine rumbling loudly and he can even feel the dust blowing in his face. He lets out a loud groan, desperately wanting to kick something.

_Will I ever get a break?_

Why did he even agree to that stupid bet?

_“Aww, my new tutor is so cute.”_

No, absolutely not because of those words.

Absolutely _not_.                                                                                                   

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Again, college freshman Louis Tomlinson’s life is a chain of misfortunes.

Harry has been gone for hours when Louis realises he’s starving. It’s already getting dark and he hasn’t eaten all day. He’s looking for the kitchen when a middle aged man appears with Harry’s suitcase right next to him.

“Good evening, Mr. Tomlinson.” – he greets gently.

“Please call me Louis.” – Louis smiles. “You must be James.”

James nods, gesturing another man to bring Louis’ suitcase upstairs. “I’m a butler for the Styleses.” – he steps forward, raising his arm, signaling Louis to follow. He immediately feels at ease with James and happily walks alongside him.

“This is your room.” – Louis’ jaw drops to the floor at the unimaginably spacious and fancy room, his room, making James chuckle in amusement.

“Louis…”

“Yes?” – Louis is jumping up and down on the king size bed when James starts talking, his eyes concerned.

“I’ve heard Paul talk about how you saved his life, very detailed I must say, so I’d like to think I know you a bit.” - James drops his gaze, sighing. “Paul didn’t think this through. He thought making you Harry’s tutor was a way to express his gratitude but I know this is so much harder than it looks. If you can’t tell Paul, I could do it for you.”

Louis has to pause a moment to figure out James’ meaning. He smiles in appreciation and shakes his head. “It’s okay. I can do it. Besides, if I quit, Paul might force Harry to drop out for real.”

James conceals his surprise with a gentle smile. “Well then, I’ll leave it up to you. Take good care of him.”

“I will.” – Louis says, not as determined. His smile feels a bit stiff.

Louis’ stomach growls angrily, alerting James of his hunger. James just laughs, patting his shoulder. “Come on, I will drive you somewhere to eat. The chef here’s just been fired by the young master this morning.”

“No, it’s fine. I can cook myself.” – Louis isn’t even surprised to hear “fired” and “young master” in the same sentence. He asks James to show him the way to the kitchen. “Have you had dinner yet? I can cook for both of us.”

James shakes his head. “No need. You go ahead.” – James shoves his hands in his pockets, speaking in a low voice. “Louis…”

“Yes?”

James looks straight into his eyes, his voice gentle. “Just…be patient with him, yeah? Harry might be a little too much sometimes, but he’s still a good kid.”

 

Louis resists the urge to snort at that. _A little too much? Understatement of the century._

 

“I know.” – he purses his lips and slowly nods, despite his internal skepticism.

_No matter what, I will not give up. At least I have to hold on through this week._

 

It’s near midnight and Harry hasn’t gone home. Louis is waiting in the study room James guided him to earlier, struggling to keep his eyes open. Once every ten minutes, he drifts off and slams his head on the desk in a sickening thud. Every time, he sits up, rubbing his eyes and tries to calm his worry.

 

_What if he doesn’t go home? But if he does and finds me asleep…_

 

Scratching his head and groaning in frustration, Louis forces himself to stay awake, despite his groggy brain’s protests and his eyelids’ heaviness.

 

Another two hours have passed.

 

Apparently, his tutee is determined to make everything difficult for him. When the clock strikes two in the morning and Louis is already on his way to a sound sleep, Harry pushes the door open and exclaims. “Hey! Did you wait long?” – throwing his leather jacket on the floor, he stretches his arms and rub his shoulder. “Man, riding a motorbike for a long time is fucking torture.”

Louis hastily stands up, fixing his messy hair and puts on his glasses before taking them down because he wore them upside down, making Harry slap his knees in laughter. With his face beef red, he huffs and points at the chair by the desk. “Sit down and study.”

Wiping a tear from his eye, Harry smirks. “Not yet.”

“What?”

“I need to take a shower first. I’ll be quick, promise.”

He heads straight to the bathroom, leaving Louis with his mouth agape. Apparently, Harry’s definition of “quick” is not the same as Louis’, as he only emerges from the bathroom 45 minutes later.

This time, contrary to Harry’s expectation, Louis is still waiting by the desk with his textbook and notebook, surprisingly awake. He taps Harry’s spot on the desk and says. “Sit down.”

Glancing at the textbook, Harry blinks. “How do you know I have a test in this subject?”

“Doesn’t matter.” – Louis says sternly, pushing the frame of his glasses. “I already went through the chapters. Fortunately, it’s early in the semester so there’s nothing too difficult yet. Tell me what you don’t understand and I will help you revise.”

“Everything.”

"What?"

“I said, I don’t understand anything.” – Harry shrugs. “You already saw my notebook. I haven’t written anything since the first day.”

Louis sighs, resisting the urge to tear his hair out. He forces a smile, opening the textbook. “Alright. I’ll teach you from the beginning. It’s just three chapters, 20 pages. We only have three hours until school. Let’s make it count.”

Harry grins, his dimples prominent. “We may as well try.”

Just like that, they jump into battle with 20 pages, with occasional interruptions due to the civil war between the two boys.

“Harry, wake up!”

“I didn’t doze off.”

“Then why did you close your eyes?”

“I just did. I listen to you with my ears, not my fucking eyes.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Or:

“Harry, do you understand this part?”

“Yeah.”

“Then tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“Tell me what you understand.”

“Why? You don’t understand so you need me to teach you?”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Or:

“Harry Styles!! I told you to answer the questions on page 12, why didn’t you?”

“I can’t. It’s too hard.”

“Let me see.”

“…”

“This is question five, of course it’s hard!! The first four are much easier, why didn’t you answer those first?”

“Didn’t want to.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The civil war only ends when the clock strikes five and Harry seems genuinely exhausted.

“I’m bloody starving.” – he blurts out.

“It’s already five. Let’s just wait ‘til breakfast.” – Louis waves his hand in dismissal, thinking Harry’s making an excuse to get a break.

 

That's most likely not the case, considering Harry's obvious struggle to keep his eyes open.

 

“Fine…How many more pages?” – Harry groans, rubbing his eyes, looking very much like a tired kitten.

“Three.” Louis says and looks away, refusing to be endeared. “Alright then, hold on for a minute.”

“Where are you going?”

“To the kitchen. I’ll make you something to eat.”

Harry raises an eyebrow. “You? Tutor slash chef? Are you sure you can cook? The chef I’ve just fired is the ninth one, just to let you know. My standards are high.”

Louis huffs, offended. “Don’t eat it then.”

“Like hell I won’t.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

When Louis brings him the hot bowl of ramen, Harry has already been sound asleep. He rests his head on a textbook, his cheeks pressed and puffy, his unruly curls falling on his face, making him look less like a smug asshole but more like the sweetheart Louis thought he was when they first met again. He feels his insides soften at the sight, unable to stop the fond sigh escaping. Putting down the tray with the ramen bowl on top on the desk, he pauses for a moment before heading to the bathroom and returning with a washcloth dipped in lukewarm water. He crouches down and carefully washes Harry’s face. “Wake up, sleepyhead. We still have to...”

 

**SLASH!!**

 

His sentence is cut short. Harry, awake since God knows when, quick as a flash takes out a butterfly knife and slashes Louis’ arm before jumping backwards, waves of killer intent radiating from his shaking body.

“Ha…Harry?” – Louis drops the washcloth, all colors drained from his face. “What’s…going on?”

 **“DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME!”** – Harry screams, his voice thunderous, his green eyes wide and psychotic. 

“But I…” – Louis flinches, absent-mindedly stepping back. He places his arm on the desk to keep himself from falling as he feels his knees weakening. He looks down at his arm, a flow of ugly red liquid dripping from the wound, which Harry seems to catch on at the same time. He stares blankly at it and the soft cloth on the floor, frowning as though he tries to contemplate everything that just happened. After a few heavy seconds, he puts down the knife and inches closer. 

“Are you okay?”

Louis slowly shakes his head, still retreating backwards until his back hits the wall, his face pale as a ghost.

“I forgot to tell you. Don’t ever touch me when I’m sleeping.” – he sighs. “You’re lucky I only slashed your arm. But I could have killed you.” - he squeezes his eyes shut and tiredly rubs his forehead. “In times like that, I can’t tell who’s who.”

Louis leans against the wall, only now feeling the searing pain on his arm. The wound runs all the way from his elbow to his wrist, still bleeding profusely. He shakily looks up at Harry, his toes curling and shaking in attempt to keep him on his feet. He tries not to horror show on his face even though he’s freaking out of his mind. If he weren’t holding the cloth in his hand to wash Harry’s face, it wouldn’t be his arm that got slashed but his own neck instead.

Harry, after a few agonising minutes of pulling himself together, walks to the drawer with his shoulders hunched, grabs a bag of what looks like first-aid kit.

“Help yourself.” – throwing the bag at Louis, he grits. “What the fuck are you still doing over there?”

“I’ll ask James to help me.” – Louis snaps, feels rage boiling inside him all of a sudden. “Eat the ramen. We’ll go through the three remaining pages when I come back.”

Not waiting to hear Harry’s answer, he storms out of the room and slams the door shut, tears pooling in his eyes. He huffs and messily wipes his eyes with the back of his hand and rushes downstairs.

Harry, still frozen in his spot, looks down at his feet and shakily exhales, clenching his fists so tight that make his knuckles go white. He’s just so, so angry at _himself_. He almost smashes the desk with his own fists when he finds the hot bowl of ramen on top that Louis cooked for him. He doesn’t even remember that he still stores ramen packets in the kitchen.

 

It smells delicious.

 

He stares at the bowl for what seems like hours, before reaching for the chopsticks on the side and starts eating.

 

Tomato. He can taste tomato in his ramen…

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

“Louis…” – James breaks the silence, carefully wrapping the wound on Louis’ arm.

He stares into the void, not even realising his own name being called.

“Louis, listen to me…” - having finished treating his wound, James sits down on the sofa opposite him.

Snapping out of his thoughts, he turns to James and sees concern written all over his face. “I’m fine, James. Really.” – he says, trying his best to put on a smile.

James frowns even harder, narrowing his eyes. “Are you though?”

“Yeah. I was…shocked, but now I’m fine.” – he traces his fingers on his bandaged arm, his smile feels more genuine. “I should have seen this coming. After all, the two of them are…are…”

“Gangsters?” – James calmly suggests and sighs when Louis refuses to meet his eyes. He moves to sit next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder and gently squeezes. “It’s my fault for not telling you in the first place. It’s all me.”

“Um, James. About…about Harry…” – Louis says, his voice comes out small. “What happened to him?”

“What do you mean what happened?” James lets out a small smile, tilting his head in mock-confusion.

“Why…why does he always keep his guard up? Even when he’s sleeping?” – he chokes out. “He’s only sixteen. I was so angry and…and scared. But then I remember Harry’s face when he jumped backwards and clutched to the knife for his dear life. I think…I’m not the only one terrified.”

“Louis…” – James pulls him in a hug, gently slapping his back. “I knew I could entrust you with him.”

“James!”

“Maybe Harry will tell you everything himself, eventually.” - James’ smile’s still on, but there’s sadness in his eyes. “That’s what I believe, Louis.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Louis drags his feet to the study room. His mind is filled with the Styleses’ butler’s sad smile. The boy's eyes, stricken with anger and dread, suffocates his heart. Harry must have gone through something really traumatising in the past. Maybe the way he acts now, all hostile and ill-tempered, is not who really he is. A boy like him, who was born into a gangster’s family, lost his mother at such a young age and lives with a father who likes pretending to be harsh and cold, a normal childhood seems so far-fetched.

_Of course. The boy with the curls and dimples. Such a beautiful boy can’t be a bad person. He just can’t be._

_I promised I would look after him. I can’t just give him up, not like this._

He smiles, reminiscing about those dramas he used to watch as a kid about how a teacher’s kindness and patience helps a problematic child turn over a new leaf…

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

_“Louis…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so stubborn and horrible to you…”_

_“It’s okay, Hazza. I understand. Deep, deep down inside, you’re still a good person. I just wish life had treated you better.”_

_“Louis, you understand me like nobody else.”_

_“Hazza, love, you’re not alone anymore. Shh. Don’t cry.”_

_“For you, I’ll study hard and try to be a better person.”_

_“Hey, no. You have to do it not for me, not for anyone else but yourself.”_

_“Louis is just the cutest!”_

_“Cute…You think I’m cute?”_

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

“LOUIS!! What the fuck are you doing out there? Get in here!!”

Louis’ imagination is rudely interrupted by a deep voice shouting in his face. In front of him is Harry’s deep scowl. Apparently, the boy opened the door himself when Louis was lost in his own mental alternate universe.

He stutters, embarrassment burning under his skin. “How did you know I was out here?”

_Cute ~_

_Aww, my new tutor is so cute!_

Louis mentally slaps himself. What the hell was he thinking?

 

“I heard your footsteps.” – Harry folds his arms across his chest and leans against the doorway. “But it’s been too long and you still haven’t come in. So I went to check and found you standing like a fucking statue out here, with your hand still on the doorknob.”

Louis dumbly nods and walks past him. “Yeah…”

“What?” – Harry briefly glances at his bandaged arm. “Scared of me? As long as you don’t touch me when I’m sleeping, I won’t hurt you. If you’re that scared, just quit. Told you you couldn’t do it.”

Louis slowly turns around to face him but contrary to Harry’s expectation, he doesn’t get mad. He only smiles sweetly, determined to put his plan of “kindness and patience to help the problematic child turn over a new leaf” into action.

“I’m not scared. I see you’ve already eaten the ramen. Now we can keep going.” – he says, pushing out the chair and sits down, reaching for Harry’s textbook.

“Wait.” – the curly-haired boy sits down next to him, clearing his throat. “Louis, why did you add tomato in the ramen?”

“Oh my God!” – Louis gasps, not paying attention to Harry’s question. With his eyes wide, he takes a closer look at the notebook. “You’ve already finished all the questions I gave you!”

“Well. You were downstairs for ages.” – Harry shrugs. “I finished up the ramen and didn’t have anything better to do so.”

“You got them all right.” – Louis mumbles, still staring at the notebook in disbelief.

“They were easy.” – Harry shrugs. “But hey! Are you avoiding my question?”

“What?”

“Why – did – you – add – tomato – in – the – ramen?” – he grunts, looking borderline murderous.

Putting the notebook down, Louis asks, confused. “You like tomatoes, don’t you?”

Harry doesn’t look any less murderous. “Well, yeah but how did you know?”

“I saw like dozens of tomatoes in the fridge.” – Louis truthfully answers. “Lots of ketchup too. I also asked James before I cooked, just to make sure. That’s pretty much how I know what to study for your test as well. I asked your classmate, I think his name was Niall.”

Harry purses his lips and nods. Pausing a bit, he smirks at Louis. “So…you can cook?”

“Not really. Well, I live alone and don’t have enough money to feed on takeout so I had to learn to cook a thing or two. But no, I’m a shit cook. Ramen is the only thing I’m confident with. What do you think?”

Harry shrugs again. “I was starving so anything is good.”

Louis grins at that, his eyes crinkling. Harry, for some reason he doesn’t even know, hates that smile to the core. He snaps. “Didn’t you say we still have 3 remaining pages? Fucking get to it!”

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

They eventually makes it through the 3 remaining pages without too much trouble. There’s still half an hour left before Harry has to go to school. It’s only now does Louis feel all energy drained out of his body. Too tired to keep up a tough façade in front of the boy, he rests his head on the desk. “Remember the notes I wrote you. Be extra careful with any questions about chapter two, they can be tricky. Oh and don’t forget to…”

“Fine, fine. Christ, you talk too much.” – Harry says as he emerges from the bathroom, half of the buttons undone, not bothering to tie his tie properly. He walks to the desk, roughly grabbing the notebooks and textbooks and throws them in his backpack.

Louis lifts his head, takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes. His eyes widen as he takes in the Styles young master’s appearance.

“No no no.” – Louis shakes his head and stands up, placing his hands on the boy’s shoulders and turns him around to face him. He quickly buttons Harry’s shirt and tie his tie. He steps back a little, examining his work. “Now, that’s much better.”

Harry blinks, too taken aback by his tutor’s action to even stop him. When Louis sits back down, he scrunches his nose and looks away, feeling the heat prickling his skin. “What did you expect? I haven’t gone to school for like a week.”

“I have classes in the morning as well.” – Louis uses his uninjured arm to rub his shoulder. He closes his eyes and sighs. “This will be a long day.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  

“Hey you.” – Harry suddenly calls.

“What?”

“Come here.” – he beckons with his finger.

“Why?”  
Harry smirks. “Just come here.”

“Ugh fine.” – Louis groans and walks to the curly-haired boy, peering up at him through his lashes.

“Now, lower your head a little.”

Louis’ eyes narrow in suspicion. “Why? Are you going to smack my head again?”

“No.”

“Then why?” – Louis asks, annoyed, still keeping his head up.

“There’s something in your hair. I will get it out for you.”

Louis remains skeptical but lowers his head anyway. Harry raises his hand and tugs a few strands, before surging forward and…pressing his lips to his messy hair. 

Louis looks up and blinks. “What did you do?” 

“That’s how the Styleses say good morning.” – Harry grins mischievously and flings his backpack on his shoulder. “Good morning, Louis! Don’t be late for college!”

He waves his hand through his back and slams the door shut, leaving his bewildered tutor behind. Running his hand through the top of his head, stopping at the spot Harry’s lips were pressed on, he frowns.

_That’s how the Styleses say good morning?_

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Louis doesn’t have to wait long to have the answer. After changing his clothes into something more presentable, he goes downstairs, preparing for his own class to find Paul Styles on the sofa.

“Good morning, Paul!” – he happily exclaims and rushes to his side, mentally patting himself for choosing a long-sleeved sweater that cover half of his palm to hide the bandage.

“Good morning, Lou Lou!” – Paul smiles and raises two fingers in a salute.

 _Lou Lou? Well, that’s new._ “Harry’s just gone to school.”

“I know.” – Paul’s smile widens, he’s obviously in a very good mood. “It’s been so long since I last saw him in the uniform. He even did up his top buttons and wore a tie properly! It’s all you, isn’t it? Thank you, Louis.”

“You…you’re welcome.” – Louis stiffens. He’s not even sure how much longer he can keep himself from spilling to Paul the truth about his sweet, innocent dear son.

“You’re going to school?”

“I am.” – he smiles. “also paying my college tuition today. Fortunately you paid me in advance yesterday…” 

“Eh, it was nothing.” – Paul waves his hand in dismissal. “So how do you go?”

“Oh, I’ll take the tube.”

“Don’t. Let James drive you. I heard you stayed up all night to tutor Harry. You must be exhausted.”

“Um, okay. Err, Paul…” – Louis stutters. “The Styles family…”

“What?”

“How do…the Styles family…” – he struggles to get the words out, feeling embarrassed. “How do the Styles family say good morning?”

“How do we say good morning?” – Paul raises an eyebrow, confusion written all over his face.

Louis is about to tell him to never mind before a figurative light bulb seems to go off in Paul’s head. “Oh! I know!” – he exclaims before slapping Louis’ back with his massive paw. “Like this! Good morning, Lou Lou!”

“Huh? So it’s not like…a kiss on the head?” – Louis asks, dumbfounded, knowing he got tricked by the demonic young master. He grits his teeth.

 

_Harry Styles, I’m so going to kick your ass._

“So Louis wants to be kissed?” – Paul asks, surprised. Then before Louis even has a chance to answer, he pulls him in a half hug and kisses his temple. “Like this then? Good morning, Lou Lou!”

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Louis will never get used to the Styleses’ weirdness. He is about to jump away from Paul’s grasp when he hears the door being pushed (or kicked?) open rather violently.

“Harry…” – Louis chokes out, awkwardly shuffles away from Paul, not even understanding why he’s acting like Harry just caught them in a compromising position, which is obviously _not_.

Paul immediately straightens up and clears his throat. His voice comes out firm. “Harry, how could you kick the door like that? Where are your manners?”

“I’m sorry, father. I’m in a hurry.” – Harry bows his head, his eyes still pinned on Louis.

“What are you doing here? I thought you already went to school.”

“I was on my way but I forgot something important so I came back.” – Harry’s voice is curt and dry, not making an effort to hide his unreasonable irritation. Louis' breath gets caught in his throat when Harry smiles sweetly in his direction. “I promised to give Louis a lift.”

“Really, Lou Lou?” – Paul turned to Louis, his eyes visibly softened. “I thought you were going to take the tube? One of you is lying to me, aren’t you?”

“No!” – Louis rushes to explain, sweats beading his forehead. “Harry did promise to give me a ride, but I thought he forgot so I was really going to take the tube. That’s…that’s true.”

Fuck. He’s lying for his tutee. If Paul knows the truth, he might fire him even before his bet with Harry ends.

The big man stares at him for a moment and nods. “Alright.”

“Goodbye, father. Louis, let’s go.” – Harry says and abruptly turns back to head out the door, making Louis scramble after him, barely managing to wave goodbye at Paul and James. Staring at Harry’s back, he curses under his breath.

 

_Jesus bloody fucking Christ, please give me strength to endure this week._

 


	4. Chapter 4

“What’s wrong with Harry?” – Paul nudges James, frowning in concern.

The butler tilts his head and smiles. “I think he’s mad.”

“Why?”

“Probably because he saw you kissing Louis.”

“But why would me kissing Louis makes him mad?” - Paul scratches his head, puzzled. “Is he jealous? I used to kiss him like that all the time when he was little. I still do with your Max.”

“My Max is only five years old, Paul.” – James explains. “Harry was about the same age when you pampered him. Louis is nineteen.”

“Even you have to admit that Louis is cute. Like a baby. He’s tiny and smells like strawberry.” – Paul’s grin gets wider as he speaks. “Especially when he pouts. Nobody would be able to resist!”

James’ eyes sadden, his voice turned solemn. “And he resembles Harry’s mother, doesn’t he?”

“A bit, yeah. Not just the crinkles when he smiles, but some of his gestures too...” – Paul nods, his tone distant. “but most of all it’s his personality that resembles her the most. That’s not why I like him, though.”

James only smirks in return. “Oh? Then who was too busy staring at him to even notice the ambush?”

“Well, me.” - Paul coughs loudly, his cheeks flaming in embarrassment. “But I wasn’t in good shape yesterday anyway!”

“Whatever you say, man.” – James squeezes his shoulder, the teasing still heavy in his tone. “Louis is Louis. I’m sure Harry won’t let the resemblance affect him.”

“You think so?”

“I hope so.”

“Do you think Louis will be able to help Harry change for the better?”

“No.” – James calmly answers, smirking when he sees the shock on Paul’s face. “He won’t help Harry change for the better but he will bring Harry _back._ And please don’t tell me you think he’s mad because you kissed Louis instead of him.”

“So what you’re saying is…” – Paul says slowly, eyes widen as realisation dawns on him. “Harry’s jealous of _me_?”

James only shrugs. “Most likely.”

“But…why? He hasn’t known Louis for a full day...”

“Well, I don’t know for sure. So I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.” – James pats Paul’s back and winks.

“Okay.” – Paul grins evilly, expectation dancing in his eyes. “By the way, tell Julia to bring Max to the main house later. I’ve missed him.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

“Haaarrrrrryyyyyyy…knoooowwwww…youuuuu arreeee maaaaadddd…buuuutttt… sloooowwwww doooowwwwwnnn…” – Louis has to scream to make sure he’s heard as the wind brutally slaps his head. But even when he’s screaming at the top of his lungs, his sentence is chopped in half by the wind as Harry breaks all speed limits.

“What the hell are you saying?” – Harry slows down a little, slightly turning his head back.

“I know you’re mad but please slow down a little. Jesus.” – Louis repeats, his arms still tightened around the boy’s waist. He’s pretty sure if he loosens his arms even just a tiny bit, he will get knocked down.

Harry grunts. “You know I’m mad?”

“It’s obvious. And I can understand why.” – Louis nods.

“Why?”

“If I were you, I know I wouldn’t be happy either.”

The motorbike comes to a sudden halt, making Louis’ head smash against Harry’s shoulder.

Harry shouts. “Get off!”

Louis is shocked but does as told. Harry takes off his own helmet and runs a hand through his unruly curls. When he turns to face his private tutor, his expression is unreadable. He raises his hand, roughly pushes the shield of Louis’ helmet up and grabs his shoulders with both hands, anger flaming in his green eyes.

“Why? Why wouldn’t you be happy if you were me?” – he shakes Louis’ shoulders violently. “And why did you still do it, knowing I wasn’t going to be happy with it?”

Louis frowns, bravely staring straight into Harry’s eyes, despite those eyes’ burning every miligram of oxygen in his lungs. “Do…what?”

 **“So Louis wants to be kissed?”** – Harry mimicks Paul but Louis can easily sense the venom dripping from his voice. God, he doesn’t have nearly enough energy to deal with Harry’s childish jealousy right now.

“You got it all wrong! It’s not what it looked like!” – he takes a deep breath and continues. “It’s all your fault anyway! You told me it was how the Styleses say good morning so I asked your father. I didn’t expect him to kiss me!”

Harry’s eyes narrow at an exasperated and messy-haired Louis. “Really?”

“Why would I lie to you?” – he snaps. “Believe me or not is up to you.”

“I do believe you.” – Harry’s brows relax a little. “But I don’t believe my father.”

“Harry…” – Louis sighs, all fight and irritation draining out of him when he sees a flicker of hurt in the boy’s eyes. “I understand how you feel. I get it…”

“You understand?” – Incredulity and bitterness seep in his tone. “How can you understand how I feel when even I don’t understand myself?”

“I know you’re not happy to see your father show affection towards someone else.” – Louis says softly, squeezing the boy’s shoulder in reassurance. “But believe me, Paul loves you more than anyone. If you heard what he told me about you, you would know. To him, you’ve always been a wonderful son.”

Their gazes lock for a few seconds. Harry raises his hand and there’s a moment when Louis thinks Harry’s going to hug him, but he only pushes him off and spits. “See? This is why I can’t trust my father at all!”

Louis’ gentle expression morphs into one of confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You’ll never understand!” – Harry puts on his helmet, clenching his fists around the hand grips. “Your college is just about two miles from here, you can walk. I’m tired.”

Not sticking around for Louis’ answer, Harry spins the grips rather harshly, making his private tutor cough heavily from all the dust blowing in his face.

 

_Christ. The Styleses are all weirdos, especially Harry._

Louis sighs, pulling his shoulder straps to keep his backpack in place before walking to his college, internally grieving his “kindness and patience to help his problematic tutee turn over a new leaf” plan.

 

_This plan is doomed to fail._

 

When he’s walked half a mile, he can hear the faint noise of Harry’s motorbike. He’s coming back!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

_“Louis…I’m so sorry. I was too angry. I shouldn’t have left you.”_

_“Hazza, love, it’s okay.”_

_“I know both you and father care about me. I know that now.”_

_“I’m glad, Hazza.”_

_“Hop on. I’ll give you a ride. I never seriously intended to make you walk. We are both exhausted after last night.”_

_“Hazza…”_

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

“LOUIS!”

“What?” – Louis is snapped out of his mental alternate universe (again). He must be more tired than he thought he was.

Harry yells. “Didn’t you hear me? I told you to give me my helmet back!”

“Oh.” – he blinks, not realising he’s still wearing the helmet. He quietly takes it off and gives it back, sheepishly peering up at Harry through his eyelashes. The boy huffs, snatching the helmet from his hand to hang it on the side his motorbike before speeding away, slapping Louis back to reality with the dust blowing.

 

_It hasn’t been a week yet. Wake the fuck up, Tomlinson._

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Monday is always the longest day to Louis, with his two most hated classes all on the day. It’s also a pretty long way from the station to the villa. Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem, but today Louis is genuinely, seriously worn out, both physically and mentally. He’s not used to staying up all night and dealing with a bad-tempered teenage son of a gangster.

“Good afternoon, James.” – he smiles albeit too stiffly at the butler. “Is Harry home yet?”

“Oh yes,”– James smiles in return. “which is a pleasant surprise. He usually doesn’t come home until midnight. He’s upstairs, probably sleeping.”

“Sleeping?” – Louis’ blood runs cold as images of the previous night flood in his mind.

 

 _“DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME!_ “

 

“Louis, are you okay?” – James’ concerned voice jolts him out of the horrifying memory. “You should eat something and rest. You look tired.”

“Yeah…thank you, James.” – he nods weakly and drags his feet towards the kitchen.

An hour later, having satisfied his growling stomach and freshly showered, Louis goes back to his room, planning to take a nice nap in preparation for another night (another fight) with young master Styles. But when the lights are switched on, he almost screams in surprise.

Harry fucking Styles is in his bed with his face pressed comfortably to the pillow, sound asleep.

He tiptoes to the bed, afraid of waking up the boy. His tutee is currently in a black dress shirt Louis’ sure is not his uniform, black skinny jeans and snoring loudly as if he’s in own bed.

 

_He shouldn’t be lying on his stomach like this. It’s bad for his back and neck._

Of course, he doesn’t dare to touch the boy, let alone flip him on his back.

“Harold, why are you sleeping here and torturing me? I really really need to sleep.” – Louis covers his face with his palm and groans. Carefully not to wake the curly-haired boy, he sits down on the edge. “You look adorable when you’re asleep, like a completely different person. Even if it weren’t for what happened last night, I wouldn’t wake you. I actually quite enjoy seeing you like this…”

 

_What the fuck am I saying?_

Louis quietly slides down to rest his back on the bed, squeezing his eyes shut and shakes his head at his stupid ramblings. Harry’s still sleeping peacefully, blissfully unaware of Louis’ internal struggles. He turns his head to the side and stares at the boy for a long moment, suddenly feeling light-headed and before he knows it, he’s already drifting off.

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Louis is suffocated, the same feeling when the deadlines of assignments, money struggles, unemployment and family pressure all creep up on him like a tsunami rising to swallow him whole. He forces his eyes open, trying to escape his real life issues seeping in his dreams, only to find Harry’s thigh resting (crushing) on his chest.

“Jesus, so this is why.” – Louis throws his head against the pillow and laughs quietly. He’s positioning himself on his elbows, about to push Harry’s thigh off but then he remembers what happened the last time he touched the sleeping boy.

 

_“Don’t touch me when I’m sleeping.”_

Harry’s words are engraved in his mind. Chewing his lips, he sighs and decides to lie back down, trying and failing to ignore the crushing weight on his chest. After a few moments, Harry stirs, but instead of waking up, he drapes his arm across Louis’ collarbone and starts inching towards, pulling Louis closer in the process. Louis’ heart almost jumps out of his chest when he realises the boy is full on spooning him. Harry nuzzles the side of his face, curls tickling Louis’ ears and his calm breath burning his skin. He’s clutching to Louis like a koala, holding him tight, so tight that it’s difficult for him to breath. Only when he starts gasping for air, feeling dizzy and his vision blurring does Harry slowly opens his eyes.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” – he gets up and glares at Louis.

Louis quickly slides out of bed and takes a deep breath, satisfied when he feels oxygen filling his lungs. “Sleeping.”

Harry sits up completely, stretching his arms and smirks. “Why are you sleeping next to me?”

“It’s my bed.” - Louis snaps, finally taking in enough oxygen to fight the boy’s absurdity. “Why are _you_ sleeping in _my_ bed?”

“Oh. I was waiting for you but I must have dozed off.”

Christ. Louis can hear his walls cracking. “You…were waiting for me?”

“Yeah, you’re supposed to tutor me tonight.” – Harry’s face is turning red from surpressing his laugh at Louis’ agape mouth.

Fully recovered from the pleasant shock, Louis smiles and asks, his voice chipper. “So...how was the test?”

“I didn’t do it.”

“What?” – Louis hopes he heard it wrong. “What do you mean you didn’t do it?”

“Something came up.” – he shrugs. “I couldn’t make it back to school in time for the test.”

So Louis didn’t hear it wrong at all. Harry missed the test and he just casually shrugs it off like it’s absolutely nothing, not bothered one bit. His indifference makes Louis’ heart drop to its stomach. He’s sad and angry, so so angry. It’s not even because their entire night of hard work has gone to waste but…it seems like Harry’s dead set on forcing him to quit.

Without a word, he stands up and is about to storm out of the room when Harry catches his arm firmly. “Wait.”

“Let go.” – Louis hisses, wincing. “You’re hurting me.”

Harry lets go of Louis’ bandaged arm and wrings the other. He speaks, his voice dangerously dark. “How dare you leave when I’m not done yet?”

“I don’t want to hear anymore.” – he spits, blood boiling in his every vein. “No matter what you do, I’m not going to quit. I’m not going to lose this bloody bet. Let go.”

He furiously rips his arm out of Harry’s grip, making the boy fall back on the bed. He grits, using an arm to push himself up and shouts, his voice ringing in Louis’ ear. “What the fuck?!”

Louis watches him silently for a moment before sitting down, yet to take his eyes off the boy.

“Harry.”

“What?”

“Take off your shirt.”

…

…

…

Harry stays frozen for approximately five seconds, processing what just came out of his stupid tutor’s mouth. For the first time since their first meeting, Louis manages to render him speechless. When he finds his voice again, he snaps, a little breathlessly. “Are you out of your mind?”

“No, I’m not.” – Louis says, his brows furrowed in concern. “Just take off your shirt.”

“What are you doing to me?” – Harry smirks, his expression gone from surprise to mischief, making Louis stop dead in his tracks and all alarms in the older boy’s head go off.

He pulls back a little and narrows his eyes “What do you mean?”

Harry gestures back and forth between them mock-sheepishly. “You are pushing me on the bed and demanding to take off my shirt.”

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU THINKING?” – Louis shrieks, mortified, blood rushing to his face.

“Well, in this situation, it’s the only thing I can think of.” – Harry says, licking his lips.

“Yesterday your father told me to do the exact same thing but I didn’t think of that at all! You…”

Louis freezes, his eyes widen as he mentally replays what he just said. He’s about to backpedal but realises it’s already too late when he sees Harry’s grin fade, the light in his eyes completely put out. He swats Louis’ hand away and stands up abruptly.

“I’m leaving.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Harry! Wait!” – Louis shouts, scrambling off the bed before making a run after the boy. He plasters himself on the door, preventing Harry from leaving.

“Get out.” – Harry grumbles, glaring at him. He’s three years younger than Louis but much taller, towering above him and certainly stronger than him. “I said get out.”

Louis shakes his head, his voice quivering. “Please listen to me. Please.”

His gentle and a bit desperate tone seems to do the trick, as Harry’s shoulders slump down. The boy drops his gaze, embarrassment burning under his skin as the awareness of his unreasonable outburst springs on him. He sighs in annoyance at himself for his weakening self-control around his idiot of a tutor.

He puts his hands in his pockets, tilting his head in anticipation. “Fine.”

“Thank you.” – Louis exhales, obviously relieved. “About your father, he wanted me to switch clothes with him to get away from the ambush. That’s all. About us, I mean…about what I said earlier, I told you to take off your shirt because I…I wanted to see your wound.”

Harry snaps his head up, shock all over his face. “How did you know?”

“Well, when you fell back on the bed, you tried to sit back up on your left arm but had to switch to your right immediately. Your left shoulder is hurt, isn’t it? I sprained my shoulder once when I worked at a construction site so I know. Take off your shirt, I need to see it.”

“You’re a nuisance.” – Harry grunts, looking away in a poor attempt to hide his reddening face. He reaches for the doorknob but Louis is quick to grab his hand.

“Just do as I say.” – he says firmly. “Or I’ll tell your father.”

“Go ahead.” – Harry simpers, unfazed by the threat. “You think he doesn’t know? As soon as I step out of the villa, his gang watch my every move. For protection and all.”

“But if their duty is to protect you, why did you still get injured?”

“This is just a minor injury from some trifling fight.” – he shrugs, internally cursing himself for spilling everything with Louis. “They only get involved when I’m in serious danger.”

Louis nods weakly, so being a mafia boss’ son is no less complicated than being born into as the Prince. Even though sometimes Paul Styles doesn’t strike him as the leading gangster but he has seen how his gang form a front of protection around him, or how they follow his every order.

“Wait. How did I not notice them following you this morning?”

“How could you?” – Harry’s lips twitch, the smugness visible in his tone. “You didn’t even notice them following _you_. Anyway, get out of the way, I’m going back to my room.”

“Harry ~”

“…”

“Harry, pretty please?”

“…”

“Harry Harry Harry ~”

“Fine! Jesus fucking Christ!” – Harry bangs his own head on the door. “Just do whatever you want and stop calling my name like that. It’s disgusting. Ugh.”

Louis pumps his fist and cheers, he actually has the fucking nerve to cheer. With a smile that threatens to rip his face, he grabs Harry’s hand and pulls him to the bed, forcing him to sit down and take off his shirt. The moment Harry undoes the first button, he turns away, words spilling out of his mouth. “Wait for me here! Don’t you dare go anywhere! I’ll go get the first-aid kit. Be right back! Don’t go!”

Harry scowls and mumbles in agreement. But when Louis trips over himself to leave the room, he lets out a little laugh, lightly shaking his head.

“What a nuisance.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Harry, I’m…” – Louis’ sentence is cut short when he steps in the room and is met with Harry half-lying, half-sitting on the bed and shirtless. He’s only sixteen but he’s already possessed some well-defined muscles. Louis gulps, trying to force down the heat burning his face as he stares at the impressive six-pack.

“Hey you.” – Harry calls out impatiently when Louis has been still in his place at the door for way too long. “Why the red face?”

Louis blinks and looks down immediately, mentally cursing his cheeks for the out-of-control blushing. He weakly climbs on the bed and clears his throat, his voice barely audible. “Turn around.”

Harry arches an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything and instead obediently turns his back on him, much to his relief. Louis winces when he’s met with the sight of the massive bruise on the boy’s back, right below his left shoulder, blood trickling from the center. There’re a few slashes on his arms as well. His heart clenches painfully in his chest and his stomach churns violently, making his head spin. He averts his eyes, taking a deep breath before looking up.

_He’s a gangster’s son. This is just a normal occurrence._

“What happened to you?” – he says, surprised at himself when his voice doesn’t crack.

“Some bastard hit me with a chair from behind.” – Harry replies calmly.

Louis runs his head over his face and purses his lips. He tries to ignore the lump in his throat as he shakily takes out the splinters of wood pinned in Harry’s wound.

“Louis.”

“Hmm?”

“Did you really work at a construction site?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“For money.”

“…”

“My family is not that poor.” - Louis goes on explaining while carefully bandaging the wound, smiling slightly when Harry drops his head and stays quiet. “It’s just…I have six siblings. I’m the eldest, so I feel like I have to be responsible, you know? I can’t let my mum keep worrying about me when she has her hands full. She already went through so much raising me on her own when her husband left. Ah, it’s done. Put your shirt on.”

Harry doesn’t put his shirt on, instead, he lies down, his arms pillowing his head. “I don’t want to go to school.” – he stares distantly at the ceiling. “I want to take over my father’s business. But he kept pushing me to study. It’s annoying.”

“You’re really clever though.” - Louis blurts out. “You could be really good if you focus on your studies.”

He realises he’s overstepped but can’t bring himself to care. He swears at himself for being unable to come up with something useful to encourage Harry when the boy is confiding in him for once.

“Well, clever is a good quality for a gangster.” – Harry turns to look at him, the seriousness in his emerald green eyes makes his heart skip a beat.

“Yeah…” – Louis chews his lips in hesitation. “Is that why you hate tutoring?”

“Part of it.” – Harry suddenly smirks, washing away all the thoughtfulness earlier. “Also because I can’t stand those troublesome private tutors who likes to go all superior and tell me how to live, like you.”

Louis blinks.

“To be fair, you don’t act superior and try to pour your wisdom on me.” – Harry raises a hand in front of his face and makes a show of examining his nails. “But you’re still troublesome. So do us both a favour and just give up before I run out of patience.”

“Not gonna happen.” – Louis shakes his head instantly. “I really need this job.”

“Whatever, we’ll see.” – Harry waves his hand in dismissal. “I’m starving. Get me ramen.”

Louis huffs. “I’m your tutor, not your slave.”

“See? Troublesome.” – Harry harshly nudges Louis’ waist with his foot, almost making his tutor fall off the bed. “Hurry up. Aren’t you going to tutor me tonight? I can’t function on an empty stomach, you know that. This is a tutor’s obligation too.”

No, it is absolutely not. Louis finds the boy’s reason ridiculous, but he’s unwilling to protest. He sighs and silently walks out, wondering when this week of probation will come to an end so he could do his job in peace. This morning, he heard about this interesting course in spring that he really wants to take and for that, he needs the money. If it were two days ago, Louis wouldn’t dare to hope, but Paul’s and James’ kindness has sparked some in him. The biggest obstacle, however, is Harry.

Of course, money is just one reason Louis decides to stick with the Styles young master. The main one is because he genuinely cares about the boy, even if he’s an ill-mannered brat.

_Am I really troublesome?_

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The tutoring session today is going well so far. Louis helps Harry catch up with the lessons he missed due to some “errands”, which are a lot but Louis wasn’t wrong when he said Harry was clever. He is a fast learner and proves to have an excellent memory when he concentrates and makes an effort. When the clock strikes ten, Harry kicks him out and changes his clothes in preparation for his midnight “errand”.

Louis furrows his brows and eyes the boy in concern. “But you’re hurt.”

Harry steps forward until their faces are barely inches apart, puts a finger on his lips and makes a hush sound before winking at him. “Troublesome.”

When Louis is too stunned to speak, Harry has already disappeared through the door. A few minutes later, he pokes his head in to find his tutor still frozen in his spot.

“Ugh I knew it.” – he raises his brow. “Go back to your room. Enjoy yourself, have fun here while you still can. A week is short.”

And slams the door shut.

Louis is jolted back to life by the sound and heavily walks back to his room, knowing his tutoring career is landing in an impasse.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

_“Paul, I’m sorry. I can’t keep my promise to you.”_

_“It’s okay, Louis. I understand. You tried your best. Here, have your last dinner with me before you go find a new job tomorrow.”_

_“Paul…”_

_“This is the apron you wore to cook for Harry. Consider it a parting gift. Best of luck, I will miss you, Louis.”_

_“Thank you, Paul, and you too, James, so much.”_

_“Hey Louis!”_

_“Harry…”_

_“Bye bye. I told you not to push it. Remember to pack all your stuff, don’t forget anything. If you do, I will throw it in the trash can.”_

_“I know.”_

_“So have you found anywhere to stay?”_

_“Not yet. It’s not like I can pay any rent right now.”_

_“Oh. Let me tell you. There’re still many spots on the street.”_

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“LOUIS!”

“Huh?” – Louis jumps, almost dropping the notebook in his hand. He has slipped into his mental universe again. He sits up frantically before remembering he’s lying on his stomach and half-heartedly working on his assignment.

Harry, since God knows when has pushed the door open and stands in front of him, tapping his foot. “What’s wrong with you? I’ve been calling your name for the last five minutes!”

“You’re still here?” – Louis asks weakly.

“I forgot to tell you. Quit the tutoring shit and be my chef instead. I quite like your ramen. Right, I’ll get going.” – Harry bursts out laughing and slams the door. “Bye.”

Louis groans and bangs his head on the notebook.

_Is a week long or short?_

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Later that night, happiness and most importantly, hope finally blossoms in Louis’ heart. For the first time in two days, he’s able to laugh in satisfaction as his hard work pays off.

At 11 p.m. that night.

_“Oh, oh, oh_

_Be my baby_

_I’ll look after you ~ ~~”_

“Hello?”

“Louis, remember me? It’s Niall, Harry’s classmate.”

“Niall, hi!” – Louis hurriedly closes his notebook to focus on the phone call. “What’s up?”

“I called Harry a hundred times but he didn’t pick up so I called you. Um, is it okay?” – Niall asks, the Irish accent prominent. Louis smiles fondly, this boy is the same age as Harry but so much more polite.

Suddenly, the images of Harry’s scowling face rushes to his mind like a hurricane.

“Louis, you there?”

“Yeah yeah, sorry.” – shaking his head to clear it of Harry’s annoying smirk, Louis replies. “It’s okay, don’t worry. So why did you call?”

“Right. Please tell him that Mr. Norton agreed to let him retake the test tomorrow.”

“Wait, what do you mean retake the test?”

“You didn’t know? Something happened so Harry had to leave before the test. He asked Mr. Norton to let him retake it some other time. He only left when Mr. Norton agreed.”

Louis nearly drops his phone at that. He fumbles to raise the phone back to his ear and squeaks. “Really?”

_He didn’t even bother to tell me! That little…_

Niall confirms. “Really. I sat in the front so I heard him talking to Mr. Norton.”

“Okay, I’ll tell him. Thank you, Niall.”

“You’re welcome. Just don’t forget to bring me some food when you have time!”

“Will do. Good night, Niall.”

He hangs up and can’t help but squeal and dance on the mattress in joy. He put his fist on his mouth to contain the grin that’s threatening to split his face in two as he processes the fact that Harry didn’t skip the test on purpose to spite him and even tried to persuade his teacher to let him retake it. He was _sorry_ for missing the test. There’s some hope for Louis’ plan to help Harry turn over a new leaf after all. Oh God.

_“Oh, oh, oh_

_Be my baby_

_I’ll look after you ~ ~~”_

Louis excitedly picks up, not even stopping to glance at the caller ID. “Niall my dear, you forgot something?”

“I’m not Niall – your – dear.” – Harry’s grunts on the other side startles Louis, making him put the phone away to look at the screen. “The fuck are you on?”

Louis is too happy to be annoyed at Harry’s rudeness though. He replies happily. “Hi Harry! Why did you call?”

“I heard you spoke French?”

“I do. Why?”

“How good are you?”

“Quite fluent. But why?”

“Good. I need your help. I’ll pick you up in half an hour.”

“Huh?”

“What? Don’t want to help me? This is also…”

“A tutor’s obligation. Right. Who said I didn’t want to help?” – Louis’ voice is way too chipper for Harry’s liking. “I’ll wait!”

Louis hangs up right away and scribbles down some notes for his assignment before closing his notebook and heads straight for his wardrobe. He puts on a black hooded jacket, some jeans and a beanie over his messy hair. He glances at the clock to see it’s already five minutes past midnight. Here goes another sleepless night. But he doesn’t really mind as Harry will retake his test tomorrow. Just thinking of it sends Louis into another burst of giggles.

On the other side of the line, Harry is still holding the phone in front of him, blinking at the screen. After a few moments, he frowns at puts his phone back in the pocket of his jeans.

_This idiot. Why did he agree so fast? Isn’t he even tired or sleepy?_

~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~

Louis is exhausted.

Harry returns to the villa half an hour later, spinning the hand grip of his motorbike in impatience as Louis rushes out the front door and climbs on. A few minutes later, Louis finds himself in front of…a hair salon?

Harry takes off his helmet and fixes his fringe. “I have to negotiate a deal with a French gang tonight. They arranged a translator for me but I don’t trust them. Fortunately you can speak French. I need you to be my translator.”

“But why me?”

“This deal is top secret, I’m not allowed to bring my crew with me.” – he pauses, the corner of his mouth twitching. “But a princess is allowed.”

A princess.

_What the fuck does that mean?_

Louis can only arches his eyebrow questioningly as his mafia glossary is pretty much empty. He tries to ask Harry, but the brat keeps snickering, shrugging and pushes him inside the salon. He’s greeted by a lilac-haired woman whom Harry addresses as Perrie. Perrie ushers him to a leather seat, takes off his glasses and put on contact lens. She proceeds to style his hair next, spending so much time on it that he starts drifting off in his seat. He then feels a hand nudging him. He straightens up and rubs his eyes, nodding dumbly when Perrie tells him to come inside the changing room.

A man pops out from behind the curtains and greets him loudly, introducing himself as Nick. He puts a hand on Louis’ back and guides him to a set of fancy clothes. He holds Louis at an arm’s length, his other hand rubbing his chin thoughtfully before picking out a black dress shirt, a black blazer, black trousers that clings to his legs and black shoes. Nick steps back, his eyes trailing up and down as if to examine his work and swirls his hands in the air. “Something’s missing.”

Louis glances down at himself and frowns. “What’s missing?”

Nick’s eyes go back to his face and light up. He snaps his fingers. “Oh I know! Come here!”

He slings an arm around Louis’ shoulders and leads him to a table. Louis’ eyes widen when he realises what Nick is about to do. “Oh my God.”

Nick flashes him a toothy grin before piercing his ears and puts on a pair of earrings. He claps two times and calls up some girl named Leigh-Anne to draw a fake tattoo on Louis’ neck. He then grabs Louis’ hand and ushers him to a mirror, holding out his arms behind Louis and wiggles his eyebrows. “Ta-da!”

When Louis squints his eyes and looks at the mirror, all his exhaustion and sleepiness are instantly whooshed away. All his life, he has only seen himself in thick-rimmed glasses, old t-shirts, worn-out jeans and ratty trainers, sometimes a beanie to cover his messy hair that he’s too lazy to fix. The person in the mirror isn’t him, he simply can’t be.

Fancily dressed in black from head to toe, the gentleman in the mirror stares back at him, wide-eyed and mouth agape. A gigantic rose tattoo covers the side of his neck, borderline on his jaw. His hair is styled into a gravity-defying pompadour, complimenting his high cheekbones. The cross-shaped earrings hanging on his ears twinkles from the light. But what stands out the most is his eyes, the contact lens makes them clearer and the lush blue prominent. He looks…

 _Breathtakingly gorgeous_.

He can’t believe he is looking at his own reflection. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone's wondering, Louis' look at the end is his look from AMAs 2014, plus the rose tattoo and the earrings ;)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I aimed at weekly update but lately I've been so busy with volunteer work. I have to put up a play for the kids, which has to be very original, light-hearted and meaningful. Every idea I came up with failed to meet the requirement. Ugh. 
> 
> Anyway, feedback is very much loved <3

“Hm. That’s more like it.”

The familiar deep voice makes Louis jump. Harry is leaning against the door with his arms crossed and staring at him. He’s in a white dress shirt and a classy black blazer, his hair in a perfectly molded quiff that brings out his defined jawline, making him look far older than his age. He looks like a real gentleman. Louis blushes, averting his eyes and asks in a small voice. “Are we going now? We need to return before Paul finds out…”

Harry only shrugs. “Don’t worry. He knows about the deal, just doesn’t know about me bringing you along though.”

He simpers at Louis before turning on his heels and striding out. Louis almost falls on his face in an effort to catch up with him.

_Whether I look like this or a nerdy tutor, I always end up following him._

Louis presses his lips together, contemplating the sinking feeling in his stomach at Harry’s indifference towards his makeover. He inhales, trying to push off the unreasonable emotion and quickening his pace.

If only he knew that Harry had frozen at the door for a long time.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Aren’t we riding your motorbike?”

“Nah. For formality’s sake, we’re taking the car.” – Harry climbs on the backseat of the black BMW and pulls Louis next to him. He glances at him, hollowing his cheeks and points at the bandage peeking out of his sleeve. “You look quite alright, except for that.”

“What am I going to do?” – Louis tugs at the bandage self-consciously. “Should I just take it off then?”

He touches the edge of the bandage, preparing to remove it when Harry’s massive hand catches his wrist, stopping him in his track.

“Don’t!! You’re still hurt!” – Harry yells.

“Huh?” - Louis winces at the loudness and withdraws his hand.

Harry sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “I’ll take care of it. You’re so troublesome.”

He takes Louis’ hand in one of his, the other pulls a black fingerless glove out of the pocket of his trousers and puts it on his tutor’s hand. “This will do.”

Louis gulps and makes a futile effort to calm the butterflies in his stomach. When he looks up, he meets Harry’s emerald green eyes looking back at him. Their faces are way too close, he can even feel Harry’s warm breath on his skin. Suddenly, Harry blinks and turn away, snapping them both out of their daze. Harry shifts away and coughs, his cheeks flushed. Louis sneaks a quick glance at the boy before looking down at his hand in his lap, his fingers brushing the black glove. He bites his lip to hide the spreading smile, as his mind comes back to the flick of concern in a pair of green eyes and how Harry yelled at him for taking his bandage off when he was still hurt. Harry was worried about him.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Their negotiation location is a luxurious French restaurant. The chauffeur carefully pulls over before stepping out and opening the door for Harry and Louis.

“This way, princess.” – the chauffeur says awkwardly and extends his arm in Harry’s direction.

Harry grabs Louis’ hand and link their arms together. Two men in black at the front door bow their heads lightly at the sight of them. “Good evening young master and princess.”

At this point, Louis can vaguely guess what ‘princess’ means. He blushes furiously but stays quiet for Harry’s sake.

“Stay quiet.” – Harry smirks and whispers in his ear. “Just translate what they say to me and smile. That’s all.”

Louis nods weakly, his face scrunched up in confusion. He can understand staying quiet but why smile? He decides not to question it and just do whatever he’s told, wanting to get everything done quickly and go home. He’s exhausted but what matters is that Harry needs to go home and get some rest to retake his test tomorrow. Just thinking of Harry’s persuading his teacher to let him retake the test brings an effortless smile to his face.

“Don’t smile like that, you look dumb.” – Harry tsked in disapproval. “Just a very light smile, look at me.”

Harry points to his own face and his lips quirk up in a ‘sample’ smile, almost making Louis faint on the spot.

_So that’s what Harry’s smile looks like. Much better than the smirk he always throws at me, that brat._

Louis thinks Harry has never looked more beautiful.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Across the table, Harry and Louis face a young French man and a gorgeous brunette, seemingly in their early twenties. They were already waiting for them, the man calmly sipping his tea when they came in the private booth. Remembering what Harry said, Louis smiles and nods his head slightly as a greeting before sitting down at the chair Harry pulls out for him.

The translation goes smoothly so far. The French man, whose name is Gabriel as Harry calls him, is the young master of the Moreau family. The two young masters negotiate a deal regarding some item dubbed “The X”. As Gabriel finishes his sentence, Louis leans in and whispers translation in Harry’s ear as instructed, although he doesn’t understand why he has to whisper so closely.

The negotiation ends at three in the morning. They all stand up and exchange farewells, Harry briefly shaking hands with Gabriel. When he lets go, the French young master turns his eyes in Louis’ direction and wets his lips. Louis starts feeling uneasy when Gabriel’s eyes roam his body up and down in an indecent manner. Gabriel simpers and says something in French that Harry can’t understand, but his dark and a little breathless tone and the glint of thirst in his eyes directed at Louis makes Harry’s blood boil, his fists balled tightly by his side. He looks at Louis for translation, but his tutor only bites his lower lip in obvious discomfort.

“Let’s get out of here.” – he tugs at Harry’s sleeve, a hint of pleading in his tone.

Harry nods before placing his hand on Louis’ waist and guiding him out. When he’s resting on the backseat of the BMW, Louis breaths out a sigh of relief. He turns to look at Harry questioningly when he realises the boy’s still holding the door open. Harry puts a hand on his shoulder, firmly keeping him in his seat and says. “Wait here.”

“Wha…” – as usual, Louis’ sentence is cut short by a brutal slam of the door as Harry goes back in the restaurant. Louis rubs his hands together nervously and keeps glancing out the window for a sign of the boy.

Fifteen minutes later, he spots a familiar head of curls at the front door. Taking in his appearance, Louis notices that Harry’s blazer is gone and his dress shirt is rumpled.

“What happened?” – Louis can’t help but worry at the anger on Harry’s face when the boy climbs on the backseat.

Harry doesn’t look at him. “Nothing.”

Louis sighs and backs down, knowing he wouldn’t get the answer when Harry’s clearly mad. Instead, he looks out the window, forcing his attention on the surroundings.

After an agonising long moment, Harry grouches. “The negotiation has failed.”

Louis whips his head around. “What? Why?”

Harry glares at him. “Not telling you.”

“What happened, young master?” – a voice comes from the driver seat.

“I might have knocked that bastard’s teeth out.” – Harry replies coolly, his eyes pinned on Louis but obviously still ‘not telling him’. Louis snorts, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at Harry’s childish attempt to get back at him for not translating what Gabriel said.

“But why did you do that?” – the chauffeur asks again, gently helping ‘princess’ indirectly communicate with young master.

“The asshole thought he could say whatever he wanted by offering a high price. Nobody fucks with the Styleses, especially Harry Styles and gets away with it.”

At this, Louis breaks into a grin. He didn’t translate what Gabriel said, but Harry seemed to have caught on anyway and most importantly, the boy got mad on his behalf.

“Hey, what the fuck are you smiling at?” – Harry yells.

Louis’ grin only broadens.

“Answer me! Why - are - you - smiling?”

Louis tilts his head back on the seat and closes his eyes, sighing contently.

“Serves him right.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Wake up! We’re home.” – Harry shakes Louis’ shoulder violently when the car stops at villa’s front gate.

Rubbing his eyes tiredly, Louis mumbles. “What?”

“We – are – home.” – Harry grunts. “Two sleepless nights and you’re already giving out?”

Louis yawns and stretches his limbs. “Three actually. Two days ago I couldn’t sleep because I had no money to pay my college tuition.”

He groggily heads to his room and wastes no time in throwing himself on the bed, not even bothering to change into something more comfortable. Just when he starts dozing off, he remembers something important. He pushes himself up and runs to Harry’s room.

He knocks twice before he hears Harry’s gruff voice telling him to come in. At Harry’s approval, Louis carefully opens the door, only to go rigid on the spot. Harry may or may not be changing his clothes. He’s chugging a water bottle, the liquid dripping down his jaw. He’s only in his boxer briefs, the butterfly tattoo on his stomach on full display. The sight sweeps Louis’ drowsiness all the way to Mars, making the adrenaline in his body pump.

Harry screws the cap back on and hollows his cheeks to stifle a laugh at Louis’ dumbfounded face. “I thought you were going to bed.”

“I was.” – Louis turns aside and coughs, his cheeks flaming. “…but I remembered something important I forgot to ask. Um…”

_I’ve seen my friends naked so many times and it did nothing. He’s just a sixteen-year-old brat for fuck’s sake. Get a grip._

“So what’s up?”

“Niall called earlier. He said Mr. Norton agreed to let you retake the test tomorrow.” – Louis replies, relieved when his voice comes out even.

“Oh.” – Harry’s eyebrows raised a little, while his mouth makes what was almost an upside-down closed smile, his head nodding ever so slightly. “So that’s why you didn’t hesitate to go with me.”

“It’s not the only reason. Actually I…” – Louis starts protesting but trail off and groans in exasperation as his eyes land on Harry’s bruised knuckles. “Not again…”

“Ah. I punched him in the teeth so…” – Harry calmly shrugs and waves his hand dismissively. “Nothing I haven’t had before. I will retake the test tomorrow, happy? Now go to sleep, you look horrible.”

Louis hasn’t been able to sleep in days and he feels the worse for wear so he only sighs and nods. “Okay.”

“But Louis…”

“Hm?” – Louis tilts his head in question, arching a brow when he sees a tint of pink on Harry’s cheeks. “What’s wrong?”

“What did Gabriel say to you?”

“What?” - Louis’ eyes widen comically. “You didn’t understand what he said and yet you just went and punched him? What the hell, Harry?!”

“Well, you just paled at whatever it is that he said.” – Harry scoffs at Louis’ slow processing. “I thought he threatened you so I punched him.”

“Oh, it was nothing really…” – Louis’ lips curve up into the smile that Harry absolutely despises. “He called me pretty and asked me…uh…how much for one night.”

…

…

…

Harry is stilled for approximately five seconds. At the sixth, he glances at the clock and his jaw tightens. “It’s not four yet. Plenty of time then.”

“Plenty of time for what?”

“None of your business.” – Harry puts his hands on Louis’ shoulders and forces him to turn around, shoving him towards the door. “Go to sleep.”

Louis’ stomach churns with anxiety but he twists the doorknob anyway. As soon as he hears the shutting sound, he presses his ear against the door. He’s certain Harry’s up to something behind his back. He proves to be right as a few seconds later, Harry’s sharp voice comes on.

“Get my crew. We’re going to take down the Moreaus.”

At this, Louis blanches and rushes in the room. “NO!”

“What the hell?” – Harry snaps his head up to glare at Louis, gripping his phone tightly.

“Just let it go, Harry.” – Louis begs. “You can’t do that. He was just messing around. It was nothing to me!”

“It wasn’t nothing to me.” – Harry throws his phone at the mattress. “Back there you weren’t just Louis Tomlinson, you were the princess of the Styles family and yet he dared to fuck with you! It meant he looked down on me and my father. I’m defending my family’s honour. I’m not doing this for you.”

_Not doing this for you._

“I know…” – Louis says with a low and shaky voice. Something is shattering in him. “I know you’re not doing this for me. How could it be for me? I just...I just want you to not do this yet…because…”

Harry stares at his lap and lets out a faint smile albeit too bitterly. “You’re afraid my father won’t like it?”

Louis exhales heavily and shakes his head. His voice comes out strangled and desperate.

“Because you’re hurt.”

Harry is worried about his family’s honour. Louis is worried about Harry.

Harry is enraged because he was indirectly insulted, and yet Louis thought the boy was defending _his_ honour.

_Stupid. Who do you think you are?_

“Louis.” – Harry says after long silence, avoiding Louis’ eyes. “I didn’t decide to take down the Moreaus because of you…but I will _stop_ for you, okay? For you, not for this minor wound. It doesn’t even hurt.” – he clears his throat awkwardly, raising his voice at the last words in a pointless attempt to hide his embarrassment.

Louis’ eyes go round and his mouth drops open in shock. A minute has passed and yet he can’t believe what he heard. Harry just said something that sounds remotely like…an indirect apology to him. More importantly, he willingly gave in to Louis and aborted his plan of attack on the Moreaus.

“HEY! STOP SMILING LIKE A FUCKING IDIOT AND SAY SOMETHING!” – Harry shrieks. The pure joy and relief on Louis’ face makes his skin itch with embarrassment and anger at the same time. He huffs and grabs Louis’ hand, roughly dragging him to the door and pushes him out. “Go to sleep. You only have a few hours until your class. I don’t want you to blame me if you’re too tired to go.”

At this, the door is slammed harshly in his face, making Louis wince slightly. He paces around in front of Harry’s room, not fully trusting the boy to actually cancel his plan. How could he sleep if he’s worried sick about Harry? He emits a long breath and sits down, leaning against the door. He is determined to keep watch just in case Harry changes his mind, despite the protest of his drowsy brain. He rubs his eyes, struggling to refrain from dozing off.

A long night indeed…

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Harry blinks and sits up, grabbing his phone to check the time. It’s seven in the morning. He has only slept for three hours but he feels unusually refreshed and well-rested, as it was the most sound and relaxing sleep he has had in a long time. After finishing his morning routine, he changes into his uniform and lazily flings his backpack on his shoulder. He twists the doorknob, internally wondering if his troublesome tutor is awake.

But…why is the door so heavy today?

Frowning, he grits his teeth and pushes the door with all his might. When the damn thing is finally open, he curses and puts his hands on his hip, unsure whether to be amused or annoyed at the sight that greets him. Louis is lying on the side with his back plastered to Harry’s door. His small body is curling into a ball from the coldness of the wooden floor.

“This idiot.” – Harry hisses and crouches down to wake him up but stops in his track. Louis is still in his attire from last night with the black blazer and black tight trousers, his hair a messy quiff and the fake rose tattoo lining on his jaw. The silver cross-shaped earings are sparkly dangling on his ears.

“You are still as ugly when you sleep.” – Harry mutters under his breath. “Everything about you is ugly. Your mouth is ugly. What the fuck is with those pouty lips? Put that away before I slap you.”

Harry leans in and presses his lips to Louis’.

It is too brief for a kiss but butterflies still soar in Harry’s stomach. Feelings close to giddiness and warmth surge in his chest, clouding his mind, so strongly that it makes him a bit light-headed. His eyes flicker to Louis’ lips and he inches closer, overwhelmed by the urge to feel them on his again.

Until a loud ACHOO hits him in the face.

“Harry? Is it morning already?” – Louis sniffles and droopily looks up at the boy crouching above him. Harry wipes his face, almost breathing out in relief at the sight of a not fully awake and clueless Louis.

“Yeah.” – normally, Harry would have yelled at Louis for his stupidity. Instead, the boy just holds his hand and gently pulls his tutor up. “Why did you sleep out here? Am I that unreliable?”

Louis can only scratches his head sheepishly and stutters. “I’m sorry, I…”

“Now you’re sorry?” – Harry snaps. “Doubt me one more time and I’ll castrate you! Go wash your face. I’ll give you a lift to school.”

Louis nods dumbly and rushes to the bathroom. After rinsing his mouth, he frowns and stares at the mirror, only to find his face tomato red. He slaps water onto his face, desperately hoping to get rid of the weird dream he had last night, in which Harry kissed him.

It’s only a dream but the sweetness on his lips and his mind still lingers.

 _If only it weren’t a dream._  


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sincere apologies for the slow update! I got a part-time job at an English center and got chosen as a volunteer for a music festival in my city so the past weeks have been pretty crazy. But I finally got the hang of it and I promise the next chapters (yes, plural) will be up real soon. I fully intend to finish this fic before I go back to college in a couple of weeks.  
> Feedback is much appreciated!

Even though it’s just a dream, it still leaves Louis giggly and giddy, giving him the strength to fight the exhaustion, get changed to go to his class and realise that what, or rather who is waiting for him the living room is the actual worst nightmare.

“GOOD MORNING LOU LOU!!”

The echoes of Paul Styles’ thunderous voice is thrown back at Louis by the walls. He snaps his eyes in Harry’s direction in alarm, who is looking daggers at him from the door. He gulps and glances back at a hopping Paul, whose arms are open wide and face glowing brightly. He shudders and takes a step back, preparing to bolt to the door but Paul catches him before he is able to.

“Good good morning to you Lou Lou!!” – Paul chirps, squeezing a horrified Louis in his arms.

“Good…morning, Paul.” – Louis mutters.

While Louis is struggling to get out of Paul’s grasp, James sneakily winks at his old friend. Harry, however, fails to notice due to being too busy glaring at his father and his stupid tutor. His face is turning an ugly shade of green, the sweetness of the morning kiss is replaced with a sour taste.

Louis doesn’t know whether to be relieved or even more horrified when Paul doesn’t kiss his hair anymore. Instead, he stoops down a little and lightly knocks their foreheads together. It doesn’t hurt but Louis is still taken by surprise. He takes a step back and rubs his forehead, completely bewildered.

“This is Paul Styles’ new good morning.” – Paul grins proudly. “Just came up with it last night.”

“Louis…” – at this, Harry’s sweet, polite voice comes out in full force. “Let’s go or we’ll be late.”

Louis jumps at the perfect opportunity to escape. He immediately bids his farewell to Paul and James before sprinting towards Harry.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

At the sound of Harry’s motor engine, Paul nudges the butler. “James, did you see that?”

James nods. “Yes, I did.”

“Hmmmm. By the way, there was something different about Louis.”

“You mean he wasn’t wearing his glasses?”

“Yeah…”

“His hair was styled into a quiff.”

“Exactly!”

“Looks much better, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah, but I still prefer Louis with his glasses and messy hair.”

James snorts at that. “Well, you’ve never been normal.”

“Oh, when I hugged him, he was burning. Was he shy or something?”

“Or sick.” – the butler frowns in concern. “But…you were way too enthusiastic with the hug. Is it simply to test Harry’s reaction?”

“Well…” – Paul chuckles sheepishly, waving his hands in front of his face.

James narrows his eyes but remains wordless and pulls out his phone. “Hey Julia, just let Max go on that play date with Tommy, no need to pass by the main house. Boss has already found another baby to pamper.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~~ ~~ ~ ~ ~

Harry is breaking every speed limit on the highway and hasn’t said a word to the person behind him. Louis doesn’t bother talking to him, knowing his words will get slapped away by the wind anyway. Besides, he doesn’t have enough energy to scream out like he did yesterday. He tightens his hold around Harry’s waist, silently counting the minutes until Harry snaps and drops him again. His head keeps spinning and he sneezes loudly every five minutes until his dear college gate appears in front of him.

“Consider this ride my thanks for your help last night.” – Harry says boredly. “What time do you finish?”

Louis blinks at him, his hands fumbling to take off the helmet. “At four but I have footie practice after. Why?”

“I finish at three. I’ll come get you then.”

“But…”

“No buts.” – Harry growls. “Don’t you dare make me wait.”

At that, Harry snatches the helmet from his hands and roughly spins the hand grip, making the sound of the speeding motorbike ring in Louis’ ears. He turns on his heels, glancing at Harry’s already faraway figure behind his back before sighing and entering college.

It might not be a bad idea to go home early after all, since Louis feels pretty under the weather.

~ ~~ ~~ ~~~~~~~~~

Louis hasn’t learned anything the whole morning. He sneezes throughout his first class and keeps drifting off during the second, nodding his head to the rhythm of the lecture.

“Louis…” – Liam, his best friend, pokes his hip and frowns in concern. “Are you okay? If you’re sick, you should go home.”

Louis shakes his head in response and to get rid of the drowsiness clouding his mind and straightens up, trying (and failing) to concentrate on what the lecturer is saying. He half-heartedly converses with his friends during lunch break, struggling to keep his eyes open and waves off his friends’ concern, claiming it’s just a silly cold. Eventually, he gives up and leans his head on his folded arms, sleeping through his afternoon class and free period, until the guy sitting in front of him coughs loudly. Louis snaps his head up, glancing around before sighing and about to lean back again, before remembering something and frantically looks up at the clock. He breathes out in relief when he sees that it’s only half past two.

“What’s wrong?” – Liam gently nudges his arm.

“Nothing. It’s not three yet, phew.”

Liam only narrows his eyes in suspicion.

“Come on, spill.” – Zayn, Liam’s boyfriend and has come to be Louis’ best friend too, thoughtfully rubs his chin and snaps his fingers. “You have a date or something? You’re not wearing your classes, even your hair is styled.”

Liam only stares at him with his brows scrunched. “You haven’t been well in the last two days. Is it the part time job?”

“Nope.” – Louis smiles, patting Liam’s shoulder in assurance. “I don’t have a date and I’m perfectly fine. Harry’s family treats me really well.”

Liam still doesn’t look convinced. “What about Harry?”

“Harry?” – Louis’ smile goes stiff at the mention of the boy. “He’s…nice. Don’t worry about me. Everything is fine, great, even.”

“Hey guys! Look! Some guy is here to pick up Louis.”

Liam and Zayn were about to interrogate their friend some more when they heard one of their classmates screaming and pointing out the window. Liam and Zayn glance at each other one time before sprinting to the window, pushing their classmates to get a good look.

“Oh my God. He’s hot.”

“Isn’t that the new Gucci suit?! Damn!”

“What is such a hot guy doing with Louis Tomlinson?”

Liam scoffs. “He looks like a smug asshole to me.”

“He does look smug.” – Zayn says, still dreamily pressed against the window. “But damn if it isn’t such a good look on him. Look at those legs.”

Louis is one second away from banging his head on the desk, feeling dizzy from his classmates’ comments.

_But wait. How do they know he is here for me?_

Louis is supposed to gather his things and leave right that moment, avoiding the risk of annoying Harry by making him wait. But curiosity gets the better of him and he sneaks a glance out the blurry window from the rain.

_WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!_

Louis groans at the sight that greets him. Harry is currently leaning against the familiar black BMW with his hands in the pockets of his trousers. The chauffeur from yesterday is standing right next to him, holding up a giant banner that says “LOUIS TOMLINSON, HURRY UP!”

“Louis, who is he?” – Louis turns his head to find Zayn waggling his eyebrows at him

“That’s Harry.” – Louis scoffs. “Who is only sixteen, by the way. Don’t get the wrong idea.”

“No one is getting the wrong idea.” – Zayn puts up his arms, feigning innocence. The bastard is clearly enjoying this. “I think I’m getting the right idea here.”

“Whatever. I have to go.”

“Louis, wait!” – Zayn calls after him, tugging at his sleeve. He softens his voice, his eyes wide and earnest, all traces of teasing are gone. “Don’t forget that Liam and I have been together since we were sixteen. It’s possible to find your soulmate at that age. If you two genuinely like each other, you should just go for it.”

Liam nods and smiles sweetly at Zayn, who leans in and kisses his cheek. Louis helplessly watches his two best friends shooting heart eyes at each other in horror. “Harry and I are not like that.” – he says, quickly grabbing his backpack. “I’m going. Can’t keep Harry waiting.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Zaynie, you seriously think Louis likes that boy?”

“I’m not sure if that’s what it is, but he definitely has feelings for him.” – Zayn nods in affirmation, placing his head on Liam’s shoulder, sagging against him when he feels Liam’s arm around him.

Liam mumbles against his temple. “How are you so sure?”

“Been there, done that.” – Zayn shrugs, looking up just in time to capture Liam’s lips in a short but not any less sweet kiss.

“GET A ROOM!!”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Harry!” – Louis greets and tries to catch his breath, wiping the raindrops from his face. “Did you wait long?”

Harry shakes his head. “It’s not even three yet, no worries.” – he turns to the chauffeur, waving his hand in a dismissive motion. “Alright, Tamara. Put the banner away.”

“Tamara?” – Louis asks, taken aback.

“Yeah, Tamara.”

“Isn’t it, like, a girl’s name?”

“Well, she’s a girl.” – Harry only raises a brow at Louis’ confusion, ushering him in the car. “Get in. It’s raining.”

Louis ducks his head, coughing in his fist to cover his embarrassment at the gender mix-up. When the chauffeur starts the car, Louis leans forward and says. “Um, you were wearing a hat and a suit so I didn’t know that you were…”

“It’s okay, princess.” – Tamara is quick to assure him, her voice calm and gentle.

“About that…” – Louis blushes at the name. “Last night, um, it was just an one time thing. I’m not princess.”

Tamara tilts her head lightly to the side, about to reply but Harry cuts in with a scowl. “One time thing my ass. You’ll be princess for a long long time. Better get used to it.”

Louis whips his head aside so fast that Harry worries it could give him a whiplash. He frowns at the horror and bewilderment on Louis’ face and then clears his throat awkwardly as he realises the implication of his words.

“I mean, I’ll need your help for a long time.”

“Oh.”

“Is it okay?”

“Sure, of course.” – Louis beams and nods vigorously, smiling gently at him, the crinkles by his eyes come out. The smile erases all traces of exhaustion from his face. He’s glowing.

Harry feels something breaking inside him.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“You really don’t know any better, do you.” – Harry suddenly grunts, his cheeks reddening.

“Huh?” – Louis jumps in his seat, bitterly thinking one day the Styles father and son will be the cause of his death due to a heart attack.

“Next time, don’t agree so quickly! And don’t smile like that either!!”

Louis is truly baffled and dizzy by Harry’s mood swing. He just can’t understand what it is that Harry wants. However, his energy is too low for him to argue any further. Instead, he rests his head on the comfortable leather and closes his eyes, about to take a little nap. Only a few seconds into the nap, something important springs to mind, making him sit up immediately. “Harry.”

“What?”

“Why are we taking the car? Another negotiation?”

“No.”

“Then why?”

“Not telling you.”

Louis resists the urge to tear his own hair out. The amount of patience he has been saving for the last nineteen years of his life is about to be used up, and it’s only been three days. “What about your test this morning?”

“Not – telling – you.”

And there goes Louis’ very last ounce of patience. He huffs and throws his head back, trying to go back to his much needed nap. Yet, he notices the car is not heading to the villa. He wants to ask Harry but decides not to, knowing the boy won’t answer him anyway. Harry seems off today, well, he’s never been a cosy person to begin with, but he just appears to be in an extra troubled mood today.

Louis’ thoughts are interrupted by the car’s pulling over and coming to a halt. Harry wordlessly gets out, slamming the door with more force than necessary (as usual).

“Princess…” – a few minutes after Harry’s gone, the chauffeur says.

“Yes, Tamara?” – Louis is a bit surprised when Tamara initiates the conversation with him, unaware that the girl still calls him “princess”.

“Actually…this afternoon young master called me to pick him up…” – Tamara lowers her voice although there’s no one else around to eavesdrop. “…because he didn’t want you to go home on a motorbike in the rain. He’s very upset that you got sick.”

“What?” – Louis’ jaw drops in shock and his eyes almost bulge out at Tamara’s disclosure. He stutters. “Har…Harry knows that I’m sick?”

“Yes. He even told me to increase the temperature of the air conditioner.” – Tamara continues to whisper, glancing out the window every now and then in case Harry comes back.

“Tamara…” – after a moment of processing, a joyful smile breaks on Louis’ face as he forgets completely about Harry’s ban and he says. “Thank you for telling me. And don’t worry, I won’t tell Harry.”

Tamara nods and instantly straightens up in the driver’s seat as Harry’s approaching with a small box in his hand. He opens the door and throw the box in Louis’ lap, speaking with his most nonchalant voice.

“That’s your new glasses. You left your old one at the salon. They must have thought it looked gross so they threw it away.”

Louis fumbles to open the box, taking out the black thick-rimmed glasses. “Thank you, Harry.”

Louis struggles to keep his smile from widening, as he finds himself more and more endeared by the boy’s failed attempt to lie. Harry doesn’t know that on his old glasses, there’s a tiny sunflower sticker, courtesy of his little sister. His thumb traces the familiar yellow dot on the left rim, biting his lip to prevent himself from giggling.

“Yeah yeah, whatever.” – Harry, oblivious to Louis’ glee, waves his hand carelessly. “You kept squinting your eyes all morning. I thought you looked stupid so I bought the glasses. Not to mention you’re going to quit soon with no salary, so consider this a compensation.”

“Who said anything about quitting?” – Louis frowns, his tone firm. “Mark my words. I will never quit being your tutor.”

“We’ll see.” – Harry smirks. “Are you always this bold when you’re sick?”

“It’s just a silly cold.” – Louis fires back and then. “ACHOO!”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The “silly cold” really has nothing on Louis, except it makes him sneeze and blow his nose every two minutes and sometimes cough nonstop for three minutes while tutoring Harry. Louis’ face is getting redder and redder, sweats start breaking out on his forehead. At his troublesome tutor’s loud sneeze, Harry only arches an eyebrow and simpers. “Just give up.”

“No!” – Louis shakes his head.

Harry grits, obviously not pleased with Louis’ stubbornness. “Let’s see how much more you can take.”

At this, Harry goes back to his homework, sometimes getting it wrong on purpose, prompting Louis to nag at him. When he remembers the time and looks for the clock, he sighs when it already strikes ten.

“Time’s out.” – Harry drops his pen and stretches his limbs. “You made it through today, Louis.”

Louis smiles weakly, pushing himself up with an arm on the desk and stands up albeit too shakily. “Told you.”

“Yeah yeah, good job, bravo.” – Harry deadpans. “Now go back to your room and sleep.”

“Good night, Harry.”

As usual, Harry doesn’t respond.

However, Louis’ silly cold proves to be much more serious, as even the short distance from Harry’s desk to the door seems to pose a challenge for him. His foot gets tangled with a chair leg, and then he almost trips over Harry’s backpack on the floor before hitting his head on the door instead of walking through it, putting an end to Louis’ struggle to crawl back to his room. He slides down on the door and hisses in pain, making no effort to stand up.

“Hey!” – Harry can’t stay silent anymore. He grumpily walks over and nudges Louis with his foot. “Get up! You’re not fooling me!”

After a moment, Louis is still on the floor, his eyes closed and eyebrows scrunched, letting out heavy breaths, his forehead is damp from the sweat. Harry frowns and sits down on his knee, placing a hand on Louis’ shoulder, gentler this time. “Louis?”

He puts his hand on Louis’ forehead, widening his eyes in horror at the heat burning his palm.

“This fucking idiot!” – He curses and sneaks one arm around Louis’ waist, the other below his knees and stands up, carrying Louis with him before violently kicking the door open and screaming out. “JAMES, GET UP HERE NOW!!”


	8. Chapter 8

_“Lou Lou, I’m sorry. I’d love to have you tutoring Harry but I’m afraid you’re too weak for that. The Styles family only accept the tough ones.”_

_“Paul, no! I’m really tough, see? I’m masculine and strong. Please believe me, this is just a tiny silly cold, nothing a nice nap won’t solve. When I still worked for Ben’s restaurant, I’ve never called in sick.”_

_“A tiny silly cold that can make you faint?”_

_“Harry!”_

_“Louis, as much as I want to take your side, I’m afraid Harry’s right. You’d been unconscious for a total of thirteen hours, fourty-five minutes and fifty seconds. It took three shots from the doctor to wake you up. You won’t be able to deal with Harry in that state.”_

_“James, not you too!”_

_“Lou Lou, don’t worry and just go back to the fast food restaurant. I’ll send my people to persuade Mr. Winston. I can guarantee he’ll take you back.”_

_“Paul…”_

_“It’s decided then.”_

_“Paul…”_

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“PLEASE DON’T FIRE ME!!” – Louis screams as he jolts awake, muttering curses as the pain in his head flashes hard. He pants and frantically glances around, quickly checking his phone only to realise it’s already past noon. He had been asleep for more than fourteen hours and he has only been at the Styles residence for almost three days. This is a nightmare, an absolute nightmare. He groans into a pillow, squeezing his eyes shut as if to escape the painful reality.

But wait. At least he has never had to call off any tutoring session with Harry. Hopefully he can get back on track in time tonight to tutor the boy. It’s not the end of the world. At this, Louis feels remarkably better. Taking a deep breath and determined not to let a cold defeat him, he tosses the pillow aside and…screams again.

Towering him above him is Paul’s massive face.

“Are you okay, Lou Lou?” – apparently having no intention to move away, Paul frowns and asks. “I’ve been here for a while and yet you didn’t notice. It’s even more serious than I thought.”

“No, I’m fine. I swear I’m fine.” – his earlier dream is coming back to haunt him. He instantly throws the blanket and jumps off the bed, in spite of his thumping headache and the overwhelming waves of nausea. “Nothing serious here, see? I’m fine.”

“Calm down, Louis.” – James’ gentle voice comes from behind Paul. The butler approaches him with a tray of food on his hands. “It’s okay if you’re sick.”

He carefully places the tray on the drawer and pushes Louis to lie back on his bed. He tucks him in and smiles warmly. “We won’t fire you just because you’re sick.”

“Okay…” – Louis mumbles, raising the blanket up to his chin, his cheeks flaming in embarrassment at the thought of Paul and James having heard him talking in his sleep the entire time.

“James’ right.” – Paul assures, scrunching his nose to hide his poorly-concealed amusement. He leans down and ruffles Louis’ hair. “I can’t even apologise to you enough for letting Harry bother you this much, let alone fire you.”

“It’s not Harry’s fault.” – Louis protests weakly.

“It’s not yours either.” – Paul’s tone suggests finality. “I’d love to stay here a bit longer but something came up. Now rest.”

“Okay.” – Louis says, trying to hold back an apology for causing trouble on the tip of his tongue as he knows Paul will most likely scold him for even thinking so. Instead, he only lets out a shaky “Thank you.”

Paul breaks into a fond smile. Louis feels himself returning the gesture, suddenly struck with the realisation of how much Harry resembles his father.

Their smiles both radiate warmth and safety.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Is Harry home?” – Louis sits up, putting a pillow behind him and leans back. Only when Paul has left does Louis dare to ask.

“Yes. He didn’t go to school today.” – James replies while handing Louis a bowl of soup and a spoon. “Careful, it’s hot.”

“Thank you.” – Louis shyly takes the bowl and lightly blows a spoonful. When he was still living alone at a rent flat, he used to curl up in bed all day, trying to sleep away the sickness. When it got too serious, which is a rare occurrence, he would call either Liam or Zayn and both of them would come yelling and fussing at his doorstep five minutes later. He’s used to the hardship and struggling to just make it through the day. And now, the royal treatment he receives at the Styles residence feels so foreign to him. All of a sudden, something important pops up in mind when he is taking another spoonful, deep in thoughts.

“Wait, what do you mean he didn’t go to school?”

“He stayed up all night so this morning, he was too tired to go. He just woke up actually but he refused to visit you.”

“Why was he up all night?” – setting the spoon back in the bowl, Louis furrows his eyebrows. “Was it another ‘errand’?” – he grits out the last word like it’s venom.

James slowly sits on the bed and his lips quirk up at the tension on Louis’ face. “What if it was?”

“No, this is just not okay!” – he puts the bowl back on the drawer and throws his hands in the air in exasperation and anger. “Harry’s only sixteen. He shouldn’t have to deal with so much danger at such a young age. He should be having fun instead of engaging in business deals that leads to nothing but violence and…”

“Louis.”

Louis is too busy ranting about his tutee’s foolishness to even register James’ calling his name. “…and his wound is not even fully healed yet. What the hell was he thinking?!”

“Louis!!”

“Huh?”

“What if I tell you that Harry stayed up all night to look after you?”

…

…

…

Louis feels like everything around him and inside him comes to a standstill at James’ confession. He goes rigid with his mouth agape and he stays as silent as a tombstone for approximately ten seconds. At the eleventh, he lies back down on his bed, pulling the blanket up to his nose.

“I’m tired.” – he chokes out. “I’m going back to sleep.” – at that, the blanket is pulled up over his head.

“Louis.” – James chuckles lightly and tugs at the blanket, pulling it down to his nose. “You’ll suffocate yourself in there.”

Louis’ tomato red face peaks out from underneath. He averts his gaze and mumbles into the thick material covering his mouth. “Harry…Harry really stayed up all night for me?”

“He did.” – James’ amused grin doesn’t fade. “The doctor said you were suffering from a bad cold and fatigue. Harry was really mad. He refused to leave your side and kept scolding you while changing the washcloth on your forehead, even though you couldn’t hear him. It was quite heartwarming to watch.”

Louis snorts.

“…he only left when your fever has gone down.” – James goes on, his grin turns gentle. “I’ve never seen Harry so concerned about someone since his mother’s death. I think he genuinely likes you.”

Louis bites his lower lip and shuts his eyes. He exhales shakily, mentally blaming the fever for his emotional state.

“Louis.”

“Yes?”

“Do you like Harry?”

“James, I…” – Louis’ grip on the blanket tightens. “I’ve only known him for three days. But every single word he says can either make me happy like a room without roof or rip my heart into shreds. Does it mean I like him?”

The butler gives him an assessing look and remains silent. After a long moment, he surges forward, brushing a few strands of hair on his forehead aside while replying. “Yes, it does. It really does.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

James brings the tray outside and closes the door. When he turns around, he’s met with Harry’s grumpy face.

The boy jerks his chin in the door’s direction as nonchalantly as he can. “Is he awake?”

“His fever is up again. I’ve been bringing him food all morning but he couldn’t eat much. Poor thing.” - avoiding eye contact with the young master, James sighs and says solemnly.

“That serious?” – Harry asks curtly, pressing his big toe into the wooden floor as though he wants to poke a hole on it.

“Unfortunately, yes.” – James carries on the somber tone. “He slept the whole night out here on the cold floor. Besides, he wasn’t exactly well-off before, feeding mostly on junk food so naturally, his immune system isn’t very strong.”

Harry stares at the floor and gnaws at bottom lip thoughtfully. A moment later, he clears his throat and grunts. “Call up that stupid doctor from yesterday for me.”

“Yes, young master.” – James nods and walks past Harry to head downstairs. He stops halfway and glances up, stifling a laugh when he sees Harry’s hand hovering above the doorknob hesitantly.

What a pair those two make.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Harry stands at the closed door for what seems like hours. The thing is, he doesn’t want to see Louis weak and in pain, especially knowing he’s the one to blame. He doesn’t want anyone to think he’s worried about his thick-headed tutor either. Nevertheless, something tells him that this sickening feeling in his stomach won’t go away if he doesn’t see Louis, even just for a little while, for himself. Taking a deep breath, he twists the doorknob and steps in before stopping dead in his track at the sight of…Louis’ bare back.

Maybe…apparently…no, wait, Louis is definitely changing his shirt. He sits at the edge of the bed with his face pressed to the phone on one hand, the other holding a grey sweater.

Harry can’t understand why even his thoughts are jumbled. He swallows thickly, trying to ignore the way his stomach stirs violently and his heart flips while watching his troublesome tutor struggling with the sweater. Louis sticks his right arm through the sleeve, only to frown and take it off when he realises it’s the wrong sleeve. He’s been fumbling for minutes and yet hasn’t even managed to put his arm in the right sleeve, too occupied with the phone call.

“Yeah, alright. Thank you so much, love.”

At that, Louis finally hangs up and drops his phone on the mattress. He starts turning around and the smile on his face stiffens when he spots Harry standing at door with his eyes glued to him.

“Good…afternoon, Harry.” – he forces a smile back on while hastily trying to put on the sweater but the harder he tries, the messier it gets, as he mistakes a sleeve for the neck.

“Hmm.” – Harry hums in response and strides up to him until Harry’s shadowing abover him. He grabs the sweater and then. “Raise your arms.”

Louis does as he’s told. After three days with the Styleses, he has come to the conclusion that he really doesn’t want to question what they tell him to do. Moreover, he’s too light-headed to even process what’s happening, unsure whether it’s due to the fever or something else.

Harry puts Louis’ arms in the respective sleeves before pulling it over his head and straightening it while smirking. “You just can’t do anything right, can you?”

“Thank you.” – Louis squeaks out, clutching the hem of his sweater to hide the heat creeping up his face.

“You seem much better.” – Harry takes a few steps back to lean against the wall while studying him.

Louis nods and grins. “Yeah. James said my fever has broken.”

“Good.” – Harry grits. _James fucking Corden, I can’t believe you lied to me_.

“Harry.”

“What?”

“Do you know who just called me?”

“I don’t care. Who?”

Ignoring the conflict in Harry’s answer, Louis’ grin widens. “Niall, your classmate. He said he couldn’t call you so he called me.”

Harry shrugs, disinterested. “Of course he couldn’t. I blocked all of my classmates’ numbers.”

The pure excitement and bliss on his tutor’s face don’t falter. “Niall told me about your test result. You got an A minus!”

“How?” – Harry stares at his foot. “I didn’t even understand half of it. My answers were pretty random.”

“Harry.”

“What?”

“Niall offered to lend you his notes from today. Go get it. I’ll run you through what you missed.”

Harry raises an eyebrow. “Since when did you get to tell me what to do?”

“I’m still your tutor, at least for this week.” – Louis calmly replies. “You promised to let me tutor you so you should listen to me.”

Louis expects him to protest but the boy only glares at him for a split second before staring him down. “You look pale as a ghost. Are you sure you can do it? My father would chop my balls off for overworking you if you died while tutoring me.”

Louis almost snorts at the dying part. He schools his features into a stern look and says. “Of course I can. Today is already the fourth day. If I can hold on for another three days…”

“I will concede defeat and let you tutor me in peace.” – Harry repeats his part of the bet in annoyance. “You don’t have to remind me. I never go back on my words.”

Louis smiles brightly. “I know.”

“Hey! I told you not to smile!!” – Harry yells.

“So will you go to Niall’s?”

Harry scoffs. “Fine. Whatever.”

“Wait, come here. I need to tell you something.” – Louis waves his hand. He’s wearing a soft grey sweater, the sleeve covering his palm. His slender fingers peaking out suddenly makes Harry’s heart beat faster than usual. He’s struck with the urge to touch and bite those fingers.

“What?” – of course, Harry would never give into that urge. Instead, he slowly walks over to the bed, keeping an emotionless face.

Louis searches his worn out black wallet and hands out some cash. “Can you buy some cookies for Niall on your way? I promised him I would buy him dinner but I don’t think I could for now.”

Peeking at Louis’ empty wallet, Harry frowns. “You don’t have to do that, you know?”

Louis shakes his head, putting the cash in Harry’s hand. “But I promised.”

“Just because Niall informed you of my tests and shit?” – looking down at his hand, Harry asks.

“Also because he helped me with the revision, highlighting the key notes for me.” – Louis smiles. “You got such a high score largely thanks to him. Better express my gratitude properly.”

Harry doesn’t say anything, only clutching the cash in hand and stares at Louis. After a very long moment, he opens his mouth, his voice comes out breathy.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you so…so nice to me? Why?”

Louis tilts his head and looks straight into his emerald green eyes. Harry feels his knees weakening under his gaze, or rather, the emotion that he sees. Louis’ gaze is too much, the blue wraps and suffocates his heart like a tidal wave.

“Because I like you.” – he says without a smile. His expression and tone show absolute seriousness.

Harry’s eyes widen and his lips part but no sound comes out. He wants to ask Louis so badly, wants to ask him why, wants to ask what he saw in a person like him. They stay like that for a while, silent and heavy, Harry’s gaze is questioning and full of doubts. Louis only responds with certainty.

Harry is the first to break the silence.

“You want to give Niall a reward for my high score. What about me?”

“You?” – surprise flickers in Louis’ eyes for a second and then it morphs into a confusing happiness. He stands up and reaches for Harry’s hand, pulling him closer. He stands on his tip toes, his breath warm on Harry’s face, making him close his eyes and exhale slightly. Suddenly, he feels Louis’ hot and chapped lips on each eye in a light and gentle kiss. “There you go.”

When Louis pulls away, Harry scrunches his eyebrows in confusion and irritation. “Why my eyes?”

Louis shrugs. “You have beautiful eyes.”

“Well then…” – Harry says as he takes Louis’ hand, raises it to his lips and proceeds to kiss and bite gently on the delicate fingers. “I’m doing this only because they are beautiful.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new chapter is here! I know, I'm on fire. Feedback is always loved! <3  
> Enjoy!

When Harry gets home, Louis is already sound asleep, perhaps due to the medicine. Harry lightly walks over to the bed, careful in order not to wake Louis up and puts his hand on Louis’ forehead. It has gone down a little but it’s still there.

“Fuck.” – he breathes out and throws Niall’s notebook he just borrowed on the floor. He immediately sprints to the bathroom and grabs a washcloth, soaking it in lukewarm water and squeezing it a bit before rushing back out to place it on his idiotic tutor’s forehead. He watches him for a long moment and then stoops down to brush his knuckles on Louis’ cheek, thumbing his cheekbone. His knees promptly feel wobbly and his energy depleted. He sits down on the wooden floor and leans against the bed.

* * * * * * * ** * ** * *

_“Why are you so nice to me?”_

_“Because I like you.”_

* * * * * * * ** * ** * *

Harry can’t figure out why Louis said he liked him, but he will never ask. He could already predict what his troublesome tutor’s answer would be, something along the lines of _No reasons, I just do._

In some way, Louis really does resemble his mother.

 

A week ago, Harry accidentally overheard a conversation between Paul and James about someone his father met on the street who looked a lot like his deceased mother. Needless to say, he was furious. It was partly because he thought his mother was one of a kind and he simply couldn’t accept the fact that some random bloke out there actually resembled her. More importantly, he saw his father smiling _that_ smile for the first time since his mother passed away, all fond and warm. He didn’t care that it might sound selfish and childish, but he didn’t want his father to look at anyone else and smile the way he used to reserve only for his mother.

 

So Harry secretly sent his crew after the bastard.

 

‘The bastard’ worked in a fast food restaurant. According to the information and pictures Tamara obtained, apart from his stupid face, he was incredibly hard-working, patient and amiable.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

_“What?! The second group failed too?” – Harry’s taken by surprise when he heard Tamara’s report._

_“I’m afraid so. They tripped him, making him drop the tray and spill the food everywhere. He looked extremely mad but didn’t react, just quietly cleaned it up. And then…um…”_

_“And then what?”_

_“Our group felt horrible about it so they came back to help him clean and even compensated for all the damage. They said he was very nice.”_

_“THESE USELESS FUCKERS!!”_

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Harry remembers sending three or four groups with a sole mission of annoying Louis. Louis did get annoyed, even enraged but he only responded with unbelieveable calmness and patience, managing to guilt-trip every single group Harry sent and even befriended some of them. Harry thought he was going to go insane.

Among several pictures of ‘the bastard’, there was one in which he was smiling while serving two other blokes, most likely his friends. He was smiling so brightly and broadly that his eyes crinkled. Harry cursed himself for thinking, even just for a second, that Louis’ smile was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

Ever since then, he found his hatred towards Louis Tomlinson growing more and more intense. He couldn’t stand seeing him smile.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Three days ago, Harry fired the personal chef James had hired only a few days before. However, to Harry, it had been multiple days and the idiot hadn’t served him anything with tomato.

“There are dozens of tomatoes in the fridge. They’ll rot if you don’t use them.” – as usual, Harry didn’t outright say he liked tomatoes. He only threw out a vague implication. If the chef gets it, good for him. If he doesn’t, he gets fired. So far, nobody has made him feel the same way as the first chef he got in his life did – his mother.

“You can’t just add tomatoes in any dish.” – the chef said. “I’m making my signature dish I’m sure you’ll like. Forget the tomatoes.”

Harry didn’t hesitate to send him on his merry way.

That day proceeded to be the worst day of Harry’s life as he learned that his father had decided to hire ‘the bastard’ to be his private tutor. The number of tutors Harry had fired was about the same as that of chefs. Nonetheless, he knew it was never their fault so he always paid them a decent amount of money as compensation. Even if he hated that Louis Tomlinson to the core, he was no exception. If he had obediently given up, Harry wouldn’t have put him through hell. But Louis, being the stubborn asshole he was, categorically refused to quit and even threatened him back.

Harry then decided he would go all the way with their bet. ‘The bastard’ obviously didn’t know whom he was messing with.

…

And now, Harry finally comes to the conclusion that he himself is the one who didn’t know whom he was messing with, that Harry himself is the loser in the game he brought up.

He lost the moment he realised that Louis is nothing like his mother. Compared to her, he’s much more naïve and pure-hearted.

He lost the moment he realised that Paul is chasing a shadow of his mother. Although he and his father can hardly look each other in the eyes, their thoughts and actions are actually the same.

He lost the moment he saw Louis waiting nearly all night for him.

When Louis made him a bowl of ramen with tomato the first time they met.

When Louis gently washed his face in the morning.

When Louis tied his tie for him before he went to school.

When Harry was unable to stop himself from kissing his hair and then got mad at Paul for doing the same thing. Harry, better than anyone, knew that Paul would never replace his mother. Yet, he was confused about his father’s feelings towards Louis and found himself wary of them. Could this be jealousy?

Harry knew he was knocked out the very first day Louis stayed with him, which made him hate Louis Tomlinson and his ridiculous smile more than ever and fueled his determination to fire the bastard. Harry had never felt more threatened by anyone in his entire life. Nobody had managed to weaken his defence as much as Louis did. Whenever he was with him, Harry just wasn’t Harry anymore.

But three days have passed. Not only has Harry not managed to fire Louis, he also let the bastard stick his nose deeper and deeper in his life.

Today Louis fucking Tomlinson has fallen ill. He hadn’t been able to sleep for three nights in a row and then he went and spent the night outside Harry’s room on the cold wooden floor just to make sure Harry didn’t get in a fight while he was injured. What a fucking idiot.

Sometimes Louis had a shit-eating grin on his face when he knew Harry was making progress at school or when Harry (reluctantly) did something remotely decent to him. And those ridiculous pouty lips of his. Jesus.

In summary, Harry has to bitterly admit that he has lost, fair and square.

Tonight Louis even had the nerve to tell Harry that he liked him. Fucking unpredictable, that bastard.

Harry slaps both hands on his face and groans into them. And then, he splits into a smile for reasons he didn’t know and a feeling close to relief washes over him, gradually pulling him in a deep sleep. Since he met Louis, the nightmares haven’t come back to haunt him.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Harry opens his eyes to find Louis’ concerned eyes staring back at him.

“Why did you sleep here? It would hurt your back.” – Louis’ voice is still throaty from the cold. “I was worried that you got sick too but I didn’t dare to wake you up.”

Harry’s lips quirk up a little but his smile seems forced and a little…sad?

“Still scared?”

Louis nods somberly. _I’m scared of seeing you terrified and in pain._ – he thinks.

Harry couldn’t read his mind, of course. The boy’s eyebrows are knitted together at the sorrow clouding Louis’ face, recalling how he hurt him three days ago fills his heart with remorse. He stands up and extends out his hand to ruffle Louis’ hair.

“It won’t happen again. Don’t worry.”

Louis’ eyes go round at the boy towering above him, sensing something not quite right about Harry’s course of actions.

“Hey!!” – he finally figures out what it is and pushes Harry’s hand off. “I’m three years older than you!”

Harry arches an eyebrow at Louis’ beet red face, uncertain whether it’s due to the fever or something else, but decides to leave him alone. He raises his wrist to check his watch and rubs his troubled back from sleeping while sitting.

“It’s already seven. I’ll just order some takeaway. James has disappeared to God knows where.”

Louis gets out of bed, gripping the headboard to steady himself and replies. “He said he went home to see his son. Takeaway’s fine.”

“Okay. I’ll call Tamara. She knows all the best restaurants.”

“Tamara…” – Louis repeats the name dumbly and goes quiet. After a moment, he bites his lip and asks. “Is she your most trusted surbodinate?”

“Yes.”

“You two seem close as well.”

“Uh-huh.”

Louis’ smile falters.

“Good.” – Louis says before he can even register what he’s saying.

But Harry seems to catch on. He gives Louis a thoughtful look and then a smirk makes its way to his face. “What do you mean ‘good’?”

“Good…is good.” – the more Louis speaks, the more he confuses himself.

“Oh, that reminds me.” – Harry says, mischief dancing in his eyes. “I missed my test three days ago for Tamara.”

“What?”

“Some nameless gang picked on her. Although Tamara was perfectly capable of handling them herself, it didn’t feel right not helping her.” – he says nonchalantly, trying to sound like the incident just randomly came up while watching Louis intently. As he expected, Louis’ smile completely falls and the happiness in his eyes dims. He silently goes back to bed and pulls the blanket up to his chin, turning on his side so that his back is facing Harry.

“I’m tired.”

“Really?” – Harry’s gaze burns into his back.

“Hmm.”

“So you’re not jealous?” – Harry goes on, grinning smugly at the way Louis’ ear is getting redder and redder.

“Jealous? No! Of course not.”

“Oh. Okay.” – Harry shrugs and swiftly turns on his heels. “I’ll go call her then.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Louis has been rolling on his bed for a while, analysing his feelings when his phone rings. He reaches out and grabs his phone, blinking in surprise when he sees the caller ID.

“Harry? What is it?”

“I forgot to tell you. I’m not at home right now. When I called Tamara earlier, she said she found a nice restaurant just around the block and asked me to come with her. I’ll bring home some leftovers for you.”

“…” – Louis can only listen on in disbelief.

“Are you hungry? Probably not yet, right? I might come home late. Enjoy yourself.”

Louis opens his mouth to reply but Harry just coldly hangs up. He drops his phone on the mattress and sighs, not wanting to acknowledge the sinking feeling in his stomach and the sharpness tugging at his heart right now.

His stomach has to choose that moment to growl loudly.

_Harry Styles, what the fuck made you think I wasn’t hungry? Yeah, go out and enjoy your dinner with your girlfriend, oops, I mean most trusted surbodinate all you want. I don’t care._

_…_

_…_

_…_

_But don’t you dare be late for our tutoring session tonight._

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Louis is starving.

Another fifteen minutes have passed and now Louis is genuinely worn out. He needs to eat something and then takes his medicine. He considers ordering some pizza, but doesn’t really have the patience to wait for the delivery at the moment. He closes the door behind him and walks through the corridor, concluding that just a cup of instant ramen would be sufficient. He drags his feet down the stairs while gripping the railing tightly to prevent himself from falling. When he finally makes it downstairs, he sits down on the last step to fight off the dizziness, panting.

Harry must be having a very good time at dinner with Tamara.

~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

_“Young master, the food here is so good, isn’t it?”_

_“It really is.”_

_“My dish has the taste of tomato. Here, try mine.”_

_“Thank you, Tamara.”_

_“What should we get for princess, young master?”_

_“Princess? Oh, you mean the stupid tutor? Just some soup is fine. It’s not like he can eat anything much.”_

_“Alright. We’re finished. Shall we leave now, young master?”_

_“So soon? Let’s go get some fresh air.”_

_“I’ll go start the car.”_

_“No need. We’ll take my motorbike.”_

_“Young master…”_

_“Just Harry is fine, love.”_

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~

“FUCK!!”

This time, Louis’ mental alternate universe ends with his own pained curse. A wave of nausea hits him hard. He clutches his stomach, frantically searching for the bathroom. When he spots it, he instantly runs as fast as he can. But when he goes past the kitchen, he stops dead in his track.

In front of him now is Harry’s stunned face. The boy is standing right next to the cooker, stirring something in the pot. Louis vaguely suspects he is suffering from vertigo as the everything starts to spin, but apparently, Harry…Harry is cooking, likely for Louis, instead of going out for dinner with Tamara.

“Don’t look so surprised.” - Harry averts his eyes and switches off the cooker. He then shrugs. “I just didn’t feel like going out anymore so I came back.”

Louis just blinks.

“Hey! What’s with the look? Don’t you believe me?” – Harry scoffs.

At that, Louis’ overwhelming nausea and dizziness are swept away and are replaced with an indescribable feeling that turns his knees into jelly. He wobbles forward and…falls down on the kitchen floor.

“LOUIS!!” – Harry shrieks and rushes to his side. He sneaks an arm around Louis’ back, helps him sit up and starts yelling. **“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING WANDERING OFF WHEN YOU’RE SICK?! DO YOU WANT TO DIE?!”**

Louis eventually manages to stand back up with Harry’s help. He droopily looks up at the boy and murmurs. “I was hungry.”

“Christ.” – Harry helps him to a chair and then gets down on one knee with his back to Louis. “Hop on. I’ll carry you back to your room.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Get on!!”

“You really don’t have to. I can walk.”

**“JUST GET THE FUCK ON!!”**

“Harry…” – Louis places his hand on Harry’s shoulder, shaking lightly to urge him to turn around. When Harry gets up and glares at him from above, he sighs and takes Harry’s hand in his own. “I was hungry and tired so I fell. It’s not a big deal. I just need to eat something.”

“What are you even doing down here?” – Harry’s rage declines slightly but his glare still burns.

“Well, you said you would be home late and I didn’t want to wait for the pizza delivery so…I was going to get the instant ramen…”

At this, Louis goes silent. He has a lump in his already sore throat and his chest clenches, making him unable to get the words out. And then…Harry feels little teardrops on his palm.

Louis is crying. Harry doesn’t know why.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Louis doesn’t know why.

Maybe it’s because Harry lied to him. He didn’t go out for dinner with anyone but stayed at home to cook for him.

Harry doesn’t know why.

Maybe it’s because he lied to Louis, making him feel abandoned and go all the way down here to feed himself while he was sick.

Louis is sobbing and trembling with Harry’s hand in his but only for a minute. The kitchen now is only left with the sounds of Louis’ quiet sniffles, airy and fragile.

“Louis, I’m sorry. I was being stupid.” – Harry breaks the silence with a soft voice. He raises his other hand and wipes the tearstreak on his tutor’s cheeks with his thumb but ends up smearing his face more. “I’m sorry I lied.”

“You’re not the only one being stupid.” – Louis croaks out, squeezing Harry’s hand gently. “I’m sorry I cried.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The two of them break their stares by bursting into embarrassed chuckles. Fortunately there was nobody else here to witness the dramatic breakdown in the kitchen or Louis Tomlinson and the proud Harry Styles would have to wish for the ground to open up and swallow them whole. Harry doesn’t know the reason why he apologised to Louis. It’s been a long time since he felt genuine regret towards someone and even longer since he last felt this relieved, like the sky after a heavy rain, clear and light and refreshing.

A long moment later, Harry scrunches his nose and smirks.

“You’re more stupid, by the way.”

“Yeah.” – Louis says, voice raspy and rough from the cold and the crying. He isn’t exactly in the mood to fight Harry over who’s more stupid. He parts his lips, about to say something else but has to stop rather abruptly.

 

Harry is kissing him.

 

The Styles young master is currently bending down, both hands on Louis’ cheeks and plush lips pressed against Louis’ hot and dry ones. Louis is stunned as his mind shuts down completely. He freezes on the spot for a nanosecond before jolting back to life, closing his eyes and placing a hand on top of Harry’s and kisses him back. It’s only a light and innocent touch of lips, lacing with uncertainty and too many questions but it still makes Louis full of the joys of spring, every fiber of his being vibrating with bliss.

 

His fever must be getting more serious.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally the new chapter is here! It should have been finished long before but I applied for a teaching assistant position two days ago so I got stuck a little. Wish me luck. 
> 
> This chapter contains mostly dialogues. I hope you all enjoy it!

An estastic scream followed by a crazy electric guitar sound in a heavy metal song comes out from Harry’s pocket, breaking the romantic moment between the troublesome tutor and his tutee. Louis jumps in his seat and pulls away from Harry at lightning speed. He buries his head in his folded arms on the table while Harry mutters a string of curses and pulls out his phone from the pocket of his trousers.

“Hello?” – he makes no effort to hide the irritation in his voice.

“…”

“Oh. Father, is something wrong?”

“…”

“I know.”

“…”

“Okay, I’ll see you in a moment.”

Harry’s growing impatience and annoyance are getting more evident as the phone call progresses. When he hangs up, he turns to Louis, who’s apparently still stunned by Harry’s ringtone.

“It was my father. He said he was coming to see us.”

“Oh.” – Louis nods and awkwardly clears his throat. “Um…but why?”

“He brought food for us.” – Harry shrugs non-commitally. “Shouldn’t have bothered cooking. Waste of my time.”

“Yeah…”

“Have you lost all your coherence? And why the fucking red face? It was just a kiss! We didn’t even use tongues.”

“I know!!” – Louis squeaks, blushing even more furiously at the mental image Harry just put in his head. “But…but...it was my first kiss…with a boy.”

Harry’s eyebrows shoot up and the corners of his mouth start twitching upwards in a mischievous grin. Louis suddenly feels an icy wind rushing down his body at the devilish expression on his tutee’s face.

“What’s so funny?”

“Who said…” – Harry’s voice is dangerously low. “…that it was your first kiss with a boy?”

At that, Louis catches on right away. His brain is suddenly at its clearest since he stepped into the Styles family.

So…that time wasn’t a dream.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 **“YOU KISSED ME WHEN I WAS SLEEPING?!”** – Louis can only react after a whole minute has passed. He screams, wincing as his throat burns, and slams his hand on the table. “Unacceptable!”

Harry bites his lower lip and scratches his temple with his index finger sheepishly. “So how about kissing when you’re awake?”

Already seeing red, Louis glares at him accusingly. “Also unacceptable!!”

“Well, punish me then.” - Harry widens his doe eyes slightly and bats his eyelashes. Louis can do nothing but blink and gulp at Harry’s sickeningly (adorably) sweet tone. Louis can even smell the heavy scent of deceit from the boy. He cautiously crosses his arms in front of his chest and narrows his eyes.

“Punish you how?”

“Kiss me back.”

“HEY!!”

When Louis’ face almost resembles a heated rock that is about to explode, Harry steps back and waves his hand, deciding to put his idiotic tutor out of his misery.

“Calm down. I’m just kidding. Well, not really.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Louis doesn’t know how much longer he could survive in the Styles mansion. Nonetheless, he will surely make it through tonight as only a few minutes later, Paul Styles has come to the rescue. His booming voice echoes in the entire house.

“HARRY, LOU LOU, I’M HERE!”

Settling the bags of food on the table, Paul opens his arms wide and approaches Louis with a bright grin on his face, making Louis shiver a little in fear and shuffle backwards.

“Paul, I’m sick…” – he makes a show of coughing into his fist. “I don’t want to infect you…so no hugging, please.”

He sneaks a quick glance at Harry to examine his reaction and can sense the satisfaction and a bit smugness rolling off the boy. Harry smirks and calmly puts the food on plates.

“Oh, don’t worry about it.” – completely oblivious to Louis’ underlying reason, Paul chuckles light-heartedly. “No flu can touch the Styleses. Our family are known for our iron constitution, right son?”

“Yes, father.” – as usual, Harry docilely agrees with his father and winks at Louis. “I’ve never fallen ill since I was little. So don’t worry about _infecting me_.”

Harry’s purposeful emphasis on the last two words make the heat rush to Louis’ cheeks. He pretends to occupy himself with the plates and lets his mind drift.

_What kind of people don’t get sick?_

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Dinner with Paul doesn’t turn out awkward or tense like Louis expected. The mood is much more pleasant compared to how it was three days ago. Paul is starting to loosen up around his son and Harry is not as overly polite and courteous as the first time Louis met him. They even manage to make Louis throw his head back in laughter at some points. Louis feels his insides bursting into sprinkles of glitter when he sees the faintest hint of dimples appearing on Harry’s cheeks. Paul only leaves the table when the clock strikes nine.

“Louis looks exhausted. Harry, take him back to his room and get him to rest, will you?”

“Sure, father.” – Harry replies and glances at Louis, amusement flickering in his eyes when Louis is too quick to raises his hands and waves wildly, utterly flustered.

“No, I’m good! I can walk!”

Despite Louis’ protest, Paul and Harry still end up following him to his room, insisting on getting him to rest properly. Harry goes to his bed and picks up Niall’s notebook he left there earlier, clutching it in his hands and says. “I’ll just go back to my room to run through Niall’s notes. I’ll ask you if there’s anything I don’t understand. You two carry on. I’ll see you later, father.”

Paul only nods, surprise written all over his features. When Harry closes the door, Paul instantly directs his gaze at Louis. “He even borrowed his friend’s notebook to study. Lou Lou, how did you get him to do that? Harry’s like a completely different person.”

Louis smiles stiffly, wrecking his brain for a response. Should he tell Paul that _“Well, I begged him to”_ or even worse: _“I let him kick my ass on a daily basis”_ or the worst: _“Well, I agreed to disguise as his princess for a few days in return.”_

“Oh by the way, what were you two doing before I came over? Did Harry take good care of you?”

Paul doesn’t seem to realise the ravage of his innocent question. It makes Louis’ already pale face from the illness turn even more pale with fear, to the point where there’s no trace of life. He shudders uncontrollably, his heart hammering in his chest and his ears go red and hot as if they’re on a fire pit.

“What’s wrong, Lou Lou? Is it the flu?” – Paul gets up to help him lie down and tucks him in. “Go to sleep. We can talk more when you feel better.”

 _Paul, I’m so sorry!_ – Louis thinks, horrified. – _I can’t tell you what Harry and I were doing before you came over. If you knew, you would kill us both._

Fortunately, Paul is different from his son as he doesn’t consider cornering Louis a form of entertainment. Satisfied that Louis is comfortable and warm, Paul smiles and raises his two fingers in a salute.

“Good night, Lou Lou.” – at that, he turns around and heads to the door. But when he places his hand on the doorknob, Louis’ raucous voice stops him in his track.

“Wait! I want to ask you something.”

“What is it?” – Paul sits back down on the edge of his bed.

“Um, you see…” – Louis stutters, sitting up and leaning his back on the headboard. He stares at his lap and plays with his hands while struggling to get the words out. “Actually I…”

Smiling gently at Louis’ hesitation, Paul pats his ankle. “You can ask me whatever you want. Don’t be shy.”

“I just don’t want you to get mad at me for prying.” – Louis says, unsure.

“Of course I won’t! Idiot.” – momentarily forgetting about Louis’ condition, Paul lunges forward and slaps his hand hard on his shoulder. Only when he sees Louis’ wincing and rubbing his shoulder from the ‘affectionate patting’, he sits back down and reassures him. “You’re living with us now. I’m sure there are many things that intrigue you. It’s totally fine. Just ask away.”

“Okay, I want to ask you about…” – Louis sighs, still torn on whether he’s doing the right thing or not. “…about Harry’s mother. James told me that she…passed away six years ago.”

“Oh…” – at that, the light in Paul’s eyes dims. His eyebrows are furrowed. He stands up and paces around the room for a moment, letting out a sigh. “Well, about that…”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” – Louis rushes to say. The sadness starting to cloud Paul’s features makes his heart clench painfully. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It’s okay, Lou.” – Paul’s lips quirk up a little but the smile only seems tired and forced. “It’s been a long time. The main reason I don’t want to talk about it is because of you. I thought you wouldn’t want to hear about it. It would make you sad.”

“Harry’s sad, too.” – Louis slips out. “He’s been sad for a long time, hasn’t he? I just…I want to know what happened. I want to make it better for him.”

“It’s not what a tutor has to do, Lou.”

“I don’t think of this as a tutor’s obligation at all.” – Louis replies firmly. “You can tell me if you don’t mind. I really want to know. I want to understand what Harry’s thinking and I…I want him to be happy again.”

Paul gives him a long assessing look. After a while, he lets out a small smile, seemingly defeated by his determination. Suddenly, he wraps his arms around Louis and hugs him tightly. “Thank you for caring so much about Harry.”

He pulls away after a few seconds and goes on. “Alright, I’ll tell you…”

Louis nods encouragingly. He reaches out for Paul’s hand and squeezes.

“Six years ago, my gang was still unstable. There was some internal conflict. And then, one of my trusted surbodinates betrayed me and even managed to persuade many others. So naturally, I had to take them down. It was our gang’s biggest elimination but I made a terrible mistake of sparing his life. I remembered everything he had done for me and the gang before so I let him go, thinking it was only fair. But to him, perhaps my forgiveness was deemed an insult. He went insane and came for Anna and Harry in revenge. He kidnapped them one night.”

At that, Louis thinks he’s stopped breathing. A sharp pain pierces his heart as his mind drifts to the extreme anger and horror filling Harry’s green eyes and the butterfly knife clutched in his hands, soaked with Louis’ blood.

 

**_“DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME!!”_ **

_“Don’t touch me when I’m sleeping! I could have killed you.”_

Louis thought he understood where Harry was coming from. He could imagine bits and pieces of Harry’s life as a gangster’s son but it didn’t prepare him enough for what he’s hearing from Paul. Dread spreads in his stomach as he listens on, as he gets a nagging feeling that the worst part is about to come.

“He told me to come to a warehouse in the outskirts of London, where he held Anna and Harry captive. I wasn’t allowed to bring my gang. When I got there, he only laughed and asked me whom I would choose if I could only save one of them.”

“You didn’t answer, did you?” - Louis squeezes his hand tighter. “You would never choose between them. You couldn’t.”

“You got it right.” – Paul calmly replies. His voice is too calm for Louis’ liking. “I didn’t choose. I could never. When I told him so, he said he knew I was going to say that so he let Anna make the decision for me.”

**_* * * * * * * * * * * * *_ **

**_“We all know princess is a strong woman, don’t we, boss? Let’s see what her decision is gonna be.”_ **

**_* * * * * * * * * * * * *_ **

“That’s what he said. And then he showed me the footage of them in the basement…”

At that, Paul’s calm voice trembles lightly. He shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath before carrying on.

“He released poison gas in the basement and left only one mask for the two of them. Of course, Anna chose Harry. She went and made the hard decision for me. When I took down the traitor with three bullets, he was still laughing and screaming: **‘ _Harry, wake up and see how much your parents love you’_** _._

And then I carried an unconscious Harry out of there. When he woke up, he was just…he didn’t show any emotion. He asked me where his mother was and when I held him and told him that she was gone, he pushed me away. He lied back down and refused to see anyone. I think he saw it coming. He didn’t scream or cry at all, he was so calm and indifferent. But ever since then, he’s no longer the playful and lively Harry I knew. James and I tried so hard to get him to talk but he kept pulling away…”

“…”

“Aww, Lou, don’t cry!” – Paul hisses and knocks their heads together. “I told you it would make you sad. I’ll just stop.”

“It hurts.” – Louis groans and cradles his own head. He then lowers his hand to wipe away the teardrops and says. “I’m crying because your head is as hard as steel and it hurts me. Not because of the story. I want to hear more if you don’t mind.”

“Kid…” – Paul grits and proceeds to sigh at Louis’ stubbornness. “I think…Harry is mad at me. He understands what happened but deep down inside, he resents me for indirectly killing his mother. That’s why in the last six years, he and I kept drifting apart.”

“Paul…” – Louis puts both of his hands on Paul’s shoulders, prompting the man to look at him. “I don’t think that’s what it is.”

“No?”

“You think Harry’s mad at you and pushing you away. But have you ever thought...that maybe Harry is mad at himself?”

Paul can’t conceal his confusion and shock at Louis’ question.

“What?”

“Maybe he thinks…his mother gave up her life in return for his own. And your strict and harsh behaviour towards him might make him think you’re blaming him.”

Paul immediately protests, his eyebrows knitted together in disapproval. “I’m not…”

“I know you are not.” – Louis rushes to explain. “But Harry doesn’t. Just like you don’t understand what he really thinks. Harry doesn’t resent you at all. He talked to me about his desire to take over your business and be your successor. The way he talks about his father is anything but hateful.”

“Louis…”

“Please trust me on this.” – Louis smiles in reassurance, hoping Paul can see the sincerity in his eyes. “I’ve only known you guys for almost four days, and I have no right or place to interfere either. However, I know that between you and Harry, there’s no hatred. It’s just a misunderstanding.”

“Alright, Lou.” – Paul smiles warmly and pushes Louis to lie back. “I get what you’re trying to say. Now rest. If your fever goes up again, Harry will hate me for real.”

“I’m sorry, Paul.” – Louis weakly calls after him when Paul is about to open the door.

“Louis.”

“Yes?”

“Don’t worry! Harry and I will figure this out.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Closing the door behind him, Paul tilts his head and asks into the darkness of the corridor.

“You heard everything, didn’t you?”

“No, I just got here.” – Harry coldly answers and turns back in the direction of his room but Paul surges forward and grabs his elbow.

“Harry! I knew you were out here from the beginning. Stop running away!” – He says firmly, tightening his grip on Harry’s arm. “Let’s talk this out once for all. We’ve postponed this long enough.”

Harry turns his head and looks his father in the eyes, his gaze like a calm and quiet lake surface. But Paul knows that beneath that calm exterior is a turmoil. Yanking his arm out of Paul’s grasp, Harry drops his head.

“I’m not running away. One day we will definitely talk this out…but not today.”

At this, he strides to his room, leaving Paul in the corridor with a defeated headshake.

 

_Please give me more time, father._

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When he starts dozing off, Louis feels someone sliding in next to him and an arm wrapping around his waist.

“Harry?” – Louis asks droopily, turning his head a little but all he can see is curly hair poking at his temple. “What are you doing here?”

“Still awake?” – Harry ignores his question and smirks. “I thought the medicine was supposed to knock you out cold.”

“Can’t sleep. Don’t know why.” – Louis murmurs, his words muffled into the pillow. Harry holds him tighter, his breath tickling Louis’ neck.

“I can’t sleep either.” – He mumbles into Louis’ shoulder. “I thought this might help. Can I sleep here tonight?”

His breath is warm with each word he speaks. Harry always radiates warmth and safety. However, at that moment, Louis can only feel an unfamiliar coldness and stinging solitude.

“I thought you didn’t want anyone touching you when you’re sleeping?”

Behind him, Harry goes silent. After a beat, he pulls Louis closer, nuzzling into the flaming skin of his neck due to the fever and murmurs, his voice soaking in the heat.

“If it’s you, it’s okay.”

“…”

“It feels safe like this…you feel safe.”

Louis reaches for Harry’s hand underneath the sheets and tangles their fingers together. He doesn’t want to think any further. It’s probably the medicine, or something else he can’t put into words, Louis suddenly feels so much lighter and is slowly lulled to sleep.

“Good night, Harry.”


End file.
